


Catch Us Where We Sleep

by ashleyfanfic



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Blood, F/F, F/M, Gun Violence, Implied Torture, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Infidelity, Modern Era, Multi, Murder, Murder for Hire, Past Abuse, Past Miscarriage, Past Sexual Abuse, Sex, Sex Trafficking, Spies, Torture, Violence, male/female violence, sadist, seduction as a weapon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:24:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyfanfic/pseuds/ashleyfanfic
Summary: “How did... we all work for the same company. How did we not realize?” Robb asked as he looked at Jon. “And you don’t even do field work! You take the pictures! You’re a damn recon agent!”





	1. Spies Came Out Of The Water

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks go to [FrostbitePanda](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostbitePanda) for the beta on this. She made it better. SO MUCH BETTER. 
> 
> The title comes from the song "Spies" by Coldplay (thanks, again, Frost).
> 
> Also, shout out to [NoOrdinaryLines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinaryLines), [jaqdtk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqdtk), [sparkles59](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkles59), and [meisie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/meisie) for being a completely amazing group of women who are supportive, hilarious, and...there really aren't words! Thank you so much for all the love and support. Talking with you guys is often the highlight of my days!

 

He pressed her back against the wall of the lift, his hands moving along her body as she wrapped her leg around his hips and thrust against him.

 

He nibbled along her neck and she pushed his mouth away and brought it back to hers.

 

“You bruise me, I’ll end you,” Daenerys said, the taunt familiar to him by now. She had an image to uphold in Morocco, that of a grieving widow. He knew that if she walked into a meeting with some of her other pursuits covered in love bites, that would be the end of it.

 

As the elevator dinged, she pushed him away from her and marched down the hall to her room. She felt his hands slide over her torso, cupping her breasts as he pressed his need for her against the curve of her arse.

 

She turned, staring at him hungrily as she pushed him through the door. He was already working on the zip of her dress as he backed her into her dining room and right onto the table. He hastily dropped to his knees in front of her. He smiled at her moan as he feasted on her cunt, her fingers delving through his auburn hair to hold him to her.

 

He wouldn’t have it. He stood and she pulled him against her. He tried to lean in to kiss her, but she dropped before him as he removed his jacket and tossed it.  He braced both of his arms against the wall as he watched her take his cock from his pants and slide her mouth over it.

 

He caught her beneath her arms to bring her back to him, but she ducked beneath his arm and walked back to her bedroom, too quick for him.

 

He pulled his shirt over his head and followed her. He ducked as she deftly threw her dress right at his face, salivating at the perfect curves of her body.

 

He was going to fuck her hard enough that she would never forget his name.

 

*~*

 

She moaned as her lover grabbed at her hair and pulled her mouth back to hers. Her fingers were determined, sliding her skirt up and over her hips then into her black lace knickers. The other woman had her panting for her in no time but she pulled away before she could actually get the release she wanted.

 

She followed her into the bedroom, as they both stripped out of their clothes. She tried to take control, tugging her towards the bed. Despite her small stature, her pale-haired lover always seemed to be in control.

 

She was soon facedown on the bed, her lover straddling the back of her head, urging her arse into the air. She gasped as she felt her fingers slide into her cunt. She couldn’t control the sounds that emitted from her, as she wiggled beneath her and demanding lover slapped her arse. Her fingers worked quickly, circling around her clit before stroking inside her once more.

 

She smacked her arse again and she knew she wasn’t going to last long at the pace she was being taken. It was too good, too much.

 

She knew the instant she got the chance, she would fuck this woman well enough that she would always remember her name.

 

*~*

 

Daenerys curled the pillow beneath her head as she stared with hooded eyes at her dark-haired paramore. His dark curls fell around his face as he sat at the end of the bed, naked, his camera in his hand. “Don’t move. The light’s perfect.”

 

She gave him a bright smile. “You’ve spent the better part of the morning taking my picture. There are other things we could be doing.”

 

He looked up from his camera and smiled at her. “I fully intend on doing those things as well. I just don’t want to forget a single moment with you, so I’m making it last forever.”

 

She straightened and brought her knees to her chest. “You’re a romantic.”

 

His eyes met hers and she noted how they seemed to twinkle with amusement. “Perhaps. I never thought so before you. I thought I was doomed to live my life alone.”

 

She turned her gaze from his and smiled. The click of the camera sounded again as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. Click.

 

“And, here you are,” he said with a grin, “ funny, intelligent, sexy...”

 

“Beautiful?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him playfully.

 

“You have people tell you that you’re beautiful all the time. I’ve heard it.”

 

She was silent for a moment and he thought he might have offended her, but she moved across the bed and took his camera from him and put it on the bench at the foot of the bed and moved into his arms. “So,” she said, “you find more in me?”

 

“Of course,” he answered.She leaned down and kissed him.

 

She settled over him, a knee on each side of his hips. “You make me only want this,” she said softly.

 

He smiled up at her and whispered, “Good. Because the last six months with you have been the best of my life. You have been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She shivered into his touch as his fingers danced along her spine. “I love you.”

 

She wrinkled her brow and shook her head sadly. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me.”

 

He nodded. “I know. It’s... complicated with our crazy schedules. But you're worth it to me.”

 

She bit her lip and pressed her forehead against his. “I’m not worth it. I never want this to end.”

 

He smiled. “It doesn’t have to,” he leaned in and kissed her, unsure if he could ever grow accustomed to anyone else. “We could run away together. Just you and I.”

 

Her fingers slid through his dark curls as her lips quirked into a smile. “And where would we go?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“Photographer and widow?”

 

He tilted his head, a playful glint in his eye as he teased, “There have been odder pairings.”

 

Daenerys chuckled, “Yes, there has. Make love to me, Jon Snow. Show much how much you love me,” she whispered against his lips.

 

He moved her to her back, his lips never leaving hers and her legs wrapped firmly around his waist. Her arms wound around his neck, her hold tight and unwavering as she moaned his name loud enough to bleed through the walls.

 

*~*

 

Jon entered the lobby, his hands in his pockets and his camera bag at his side. Her note had told him to meet her in one of the conference rooms. He was never one to dissuade her from her appetites. If she wanted him in a public room, he would oblige. He entered to find Robb seated in one of the chairs in the center of the room. The door to the left opened and Margaery entered, looking as shocked to see them as he felt.

 

They both moved forward to join Robb in the other chairs. Robb put his head in his hands. “We were all fucking played,” he said with a shake of his head. “She managed to take us all, didn’t she?”

 

Silence hung in the air.Margaery leaned back in the chair, her shoulders slumped. “How did we not realize...”

 

“She’s that fucking good,” Robb blurted as he stood and started pacing. “How long ago did you meet her?” he asked her.  

 

“Two months. You?”

 

“Three,” he answered and leaned his weight against the back of the chair. “What about you, brother?”

 

“Six,” he said softly.

 

“How did... we all work for the same company. How did we not realize?” Robb asked as he looked at Jon. “And you don’t even do field work! You take the pictures! You’re a damn recon agent!”

 

Jon was silent as he watched his brother stomp angrily up from his chair, pacing back and forth. He felt like his heart had stopped beating. She had taken up with Robb and Margaery while she’d been... She had played him and now there was nothing. He could only see red, the fury clouding his eyes.

 

The door to their right opened and Tyrion Lannister entered the room followed by his guard Bronn. Jon hung his head. “You, too?”

 

Tyrion shook his head. “Heavens, no. She has too much self-respect to allow someone like me to bed her,” he said with a smirk. “I was informed this morning of what had happened by Miss Targaryen. I have to admit, while I was furious she had outmaneuvered all of my agents, including one that wasn’t even in the bloody field, I have to admire what she has accomplished. I feel that taking her down, now, would be even more thrilling and satisfying.”

 

“She’ll never let us near her, now,” Robb said softly. “Wherever she is.”

 

“No. You’ll only see her if she wants you to,” Tyrion said with a sigh. “But we can take down the empire she’s built. Destroy it completely.”

 

“How do we do that?”

 

“We all work together. You’re brothers,” he said looking between the two men in question. “I’m sure you’ll be able to work together. And you,” he said as he looked at Margaery. “I know how much you enjoy working alone, but I hope in this circumstance you’ll make an exception.”

 

“I will,” she said as she stood and moved over to stand beside Robb. “Let’s bring the bitch down.”

 

Everyone’s attention turned to Jon who hadn’t moved. He sat, staring at his camera bag on the floor in front of him. Robb frowned, moving closer to his brother. “She took all of us.”

 

“Six months, Robb,” he spat and raked a hand through his hair. “She was in and out of town... I never thought anything of it. Just her job. She took on the two of you while I thought we were building something together.”

 

Robb sighed and frowned. “She conned us...”

 

“No. She conned _me_ ,” he growled as he grabbed his camera bag and looked at the other three. “I’m no longer recon. I’m in the field. And she’s mine.”

 

Tyrion titled his head. “You don’t get to just declare...”

 

“She told me she loved me. Did she do that to either of you?” He waited, knowing his heart would completely shatter if they said yes. When he saw them both shake their heads, a part of him still lived. “Then she’s mine.”

 

*~*

 

Tyrion entered his suite and grimaced. He walked directly to the drink cart and heaved a deep sigh. “You certainly know how to pick them, don’t you?” he said as she sat on the balcony and looked out over the city.

 

“They’re the three best at what they do.”

 

“Only, now Jon Snow isn’t recon anymore.”

 

She heaved a sigh and drank down the rest of her champagne. “I’ll handle Jon Snow.”

 

“And was telling him you loved him part of ‘handling’ Jon?”

 

She turned sharp, silencing eyes to him. “I need them to be united, even if that is against me. Jon...was unintentional. It was my own team’s mistake that they didn’t realize Jon and Robb were related. That they knew Margaery through Sansa. But if they’re all united, we’ll all strike out, take down Cersei when it’s most convenient.”

 

“And, until then, how do I keep Jon Snow from finding you and putting a bullet through your pretty head?” Tyrion quipped as he sipped his wine.

 

She looked over at him, frowning. “I cannot be found if I so desire.”

 

“Brilliant,” he said softly. “And how can I contact you?”

 

She stood and took his wine from him and downed it. “You won’t. I’ll find you,” she warned. “Thank you for helping me with this,” she said as he moved back to the cart to fill his glass once more.

 

He toasted at her before he drained it as well. “Cersei’s still alive. Don’t thank me, yet.”

 

*~*


	2. They Can't Touch You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and Jon's first meeting. Jon, Robb, and Margaery realize that they're getting help for a bigger problem from an unlikely ally. Daenerys begins to move pieces into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to FrostbitePanda for her beta job on this story. Believe me, it's garbage when she gets a hold of it!
> 
> Also, to the lovely Discerning Tarts that liven up my day, thank you for your awesomeness! NoOrdinaryLines, Jaqtdk, FrostbitePanda, Meisie, and Sparkles59...you're amazing people and I just lurve all of you!

**Chapter 2**

 

_ Jon pointed his camera at the cathedral in front of him, keeping his target in the bottom of the frame while appearing to be a tourist. He pulled his camera towards him and looked at the picture on the screen. He brought the camera back up to his eye and clicked away. Focused as he was, a flash of blonde hair caught his attention and he paused.  _

 

_ He clicked the button of his camera without even realizing he was doing it, following the new center of his focus with the lens as she tossed a coin into the fountain and then looked over at the cathedral he had been photographing. He continued to take her picture, the sunlight shining off her bright hair.  _

 

_ Jon nearly panicked when he felt the full force of her gaze turn to him and he quickly looked down at the lens of his camera, hoping he had recovered himself enough to hide the fact that he had just taken perhaps a dozen photos of a stranger... Just then, a shadow fell over him, and he looked up at her without lifting his head, peering at her through his lashes. _

 

_ She glared at him, speaking to him in Russian. He shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Russian.” _

 

_ “Then I’ll say it for you in English: why are you taking my picture?” _

 

_ He stumbled over his words for a brief moment, then sighed. “You walked into my shot.” _

 

_ “Oh? Did I also walk into it when I walked away? Show them to me as you delete them.” _

 

_ He shook his head. “I’m not deleting them.” He knew some of them had her picture, but also had pictures of his target. “But I’ll show them to you,” he responded.  _

 

_ She didn’t look happy by this in the least, but he showed her the first picture and the second. She tilted her head and heaved a sigh. “Loathe as I am to compliment someone who takes a stranger’s picture, they’re actually very good. Are you a professional?” _

 

_ He nodded. “I am. Jon Snow.” _

 

_ “And why are you in Russia, Jon Snow?” _

 

_ “Scenery.”  _

 

_ She chuckled and nodded. “Smooth.” _

 

_ “Really? I was unsure,” he said with a smile.  _

 

_ “No, it worked.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re either the best at this game I’ve ever seen or you’re sincere.” _

 

_ “Which do you think it is?” _

 

_ She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I suppose I should do more research to discover for myself.” _

 

_ “That would be wise. Find out all you can.” _

 

_ She began to walk away. “Come along, Jon Snow. For research’s sake.” _

 

_ He noticed that his prey had separated and had already gone across the square. He followed her. “After you, miss...” he lead, hoping she would tell him her name. _

 

_ “Daenerys. Daenerys Targaryen.” _

 

*~*

 

They entered Jon’s room, finding it modest compared to what they were used to. They found Jon’s open suitcases on the bed with his camera equipment tucked into one. It was then that Robb noticed the lingering scent of Daenerys’ perfume. 

 

They both looked around the room, as it was easy to see that if Jon had left, it had been quick. Robb moved to the bathroom and pushed open the door to suddenly come face to barrel of a gun. He took a deep breath, holding up both hands as he realized that it was his brother that had gotten the drop on him. He didn’t lower it right away, so Robb took a step back and scowled at him.

 

“What are you doing in my room?” Jon asked brusquely. He threw his toiletry bag into his suitcase. Robb took a seat on the edge of the bed and watched his brother storm through the room-- everything slammed or violently shoved where it needed to be. 

 

Jon hadn’t been playing Daenerys, not the least bit. He wondered how they had met, how his brother could fall for someone like her. She was out of his league. Hell, most of the time Robb felt like she was out of  _ his _ league. 

 

Jon had said there was love there. Would she really be so cold as to tell Jon she loved him if she was playing him? It seemed unprofessional in their line of work to do something like fall in love with her prey. Jon was obviously brokenhearted. Robb glanced at Margaery, unsure how she felt about all of this. Jon was easier to read. Margaery was a stone wall.

 

“We agreed to work together,” Margaery answered calmly as she sat beside him on the bed. “Robb and I thought it would be best if we started to develop a plan.”

 

Jon walked to the small breakfast table and turned his open laptop to them to let them see that it was currently scanning her picture through several databases. “I do recon, remember? I find people. I follow them. I wait,” he said calmly, though his shoulders were high and his fists were clenched at his sides. 

 

Margaery moved over to the table to look at the screen. Most of the pictures were of Daenerys, with one or two of Jon and Daenerys together. Robb peered over her shoulder, seeing a great many of them were of Daenerys unguarded, smiling in a way he had never seen. 

 

Robb glanced at his brother his brow creased in sympathy. He shook his head, wishing he could do something more to make his brother feel less horrible about all of this.

 

Margaery frowned and stepped away from the laptop. “You care for her.”

 

Jon remained silent as he turned his eyes away from the other two in the room. He folded his arms over his chest, making it obvious that he wasn’t going to open up to them about this particular subject.

 

Robb stepped forward then and shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping that they could find some way to actually work together without this continuing to be a sore spot between them. “I’m sorry.”

 

He shook his head. “We all got played, remember?”

 

Robb grimaced. “She’s good at what she does.”

 

Jon looked up at him. “Stop talking. You’re not making it better, believe me.”

 

“Why were you in town?” Margaery asked. 

 

He rubbed his brow and moved his hand anxiously through his dark hair. “I was following someone. Ramsay Bolton.”

 

Robb furrowed his brow. “Ramsay Bolton? That’s who I was supposed to intercept.”

 

Margaery nodded. “And I was to seduce and then clean out his bank accounts.”

 

Jon leaned against the chair. “Did we _ all  _ see her while she was here?”

 

Robb shook his head. “No. I hadn’t heard from her until I got a call this morning telling me to meet her.”

 

“I got a note from her with the same.  _ You _ were here with her?” Margaery asked, shocked.

 

Jon nodded his anger showing on his face with the crinkle of his eyes and the slight tilt of his head. “I told her I had a job here and so she came with me.”

 

Robb sat down at the table slowly and put his head in his hands. He was still trying to wrap his head around all the information he’d received in such a short period of time. But despite the confusion he felt, it seemed to be nothing compared to the sadness and rage that continued to pass over his brother’s face. “She knew we were all here and only saw you.  _ Why _ ?”

 

Margaery removed her own laptop from her bag, sat at the table, and began typing away. “It has  _ got _ to be about Ramsay. She knew everything. She  _ had _ to know that we would speak to one another and come after her.”

  
  


“It has to be about Ramsay,” Robb said, turning to Jon. “What do you know about him?”

 

Jon shook his head and walked over to his suitcase and removed a file. “He’s a sadist who likes young, pretty girls. He’s been trading on his father’s name, though his father doesn’t claim him outright to the public...” he looked to Robb and pulled out a picture from the file, “and, this is just circumstantial at this point, but I believe he was one of the last people seen with Sansa.”

 

Robb was on his feet then. “Where did you get this picture?”

 

“It was slipped beneath my door two days ago. I thought it had come from the organization.”

 

“Let’s assume now that it didn’t,” Margaery warned.

 

Robb let that sink in for a moment, handing the picture to Margaery. “You think she  _ knew _ ... You think she knew who had our sister? You think she figured out why Jon and I do this?”

 

“She knew Sansa was missing,” Jon admitted before Margaery could answer. “I told her.”

 

Robb gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. “Why?”

 

He looked at the floor, trying to hide the shame he felt. “I liked talking to her. She asked me if I had any siblings and I told her about all of you. It’s easier to tell a lie if it's based on truth. I gave her enough.” He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his dark curls in frustration. “After that conversation...that night, though, I was on my laptop looking at pictures of the family and was looking through the face recognition software for hits on Sansa and she caught me so I told her she was missing.”

 

“She was still with you?” Robb asked. 

 

Jon looked up at him and his eyes hardened. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean... she spent the _ night _ with you?”

 

Jon shrugged, looking ever more confused. “When we were together in the same city... yes.”

 

Robb looked at Margaery who shook her head in answer. Apparently, Margaery seemed to have the same sort of arrangement with Daenerys as he had. She didn’t stay the night. They fucked and she would leave, always with an excuse. Usually, one that left little to no room for argument. Margaery’s voice cut through Robb’s troubled thoughts, “How is it that you met, Jon?”

 

Jon looked at the pictures that were scattered on the table, finding one he’d taken that fateful day. It caused his chest to ache in a way he wasn’t willing to disclose to any of them. “I was following someone in the Manezh Square in Moscow and she walked into my shot and then...I kept taking pictures...” 

 

“And you researched her, I’m sure.”

 

“Wealthy widow to a criminal. Inherited all of his money and seemed to be doing good deeds with it. Provides for the upkeep of orphanages and is actively working to destroy sex slavery rings around the world. She has an assistant that she rescued from a ring she helped to dismantle.” He removed pictures of each main member of her team. “Jorah Mormont, a former commander for the army that sacked Pyke. And Daario, the former lover turned bodyguard. He’s helped take down brothels in South America and the Middle East. Everyone that works for her believes in her causes and will do anything to protect her. She’s managed to get as far as she does because her ability to find out everything about her targets is unparalleled. She has eyes and ears everywhere. More than we do.”

 

“If she hadn’t used all of us you’d almost want to join her cause,” Margaery commented and Jon shifted uncomfortably.

 

“So… why use us?” Robb asked. “Why would little miss do-good play with us like this?”

 

Margaery huffed. “Because it’s a game to her?”   
  


Robb shook his head. “Nah, she’s leading us somewhere. And it looks like it all has to do with Sansa and this Ramsay asshole.” He nodded to Jon. “What else do you know about him?”

 

“His base of operations is here. He’s insane according to most people who know him. Has a reputation with knives.”

 

Robb examined the picture of his sister with Ramsay and felt the muscles in his neck and back tense as he looked at it. Was this the lead they had been looking for all this time? Was Daenerys the reason they might actually find their sister? He didn’t know if that would keep Jon from killing her, but if they found Sansa because of her information, it might stay his own trigger.

 

“Where is he?” Robb asked.

 

“He’s got a house on the outside of the city. Heavily guarded, intense security system, ravenous dogs...he’s been known to feed people to them.”

 

Margaery leaned back in her chair and took the picture from Robb. “He’s involved in underground pursuits, isn’t he?”

 

Jon nodded. “Yes. All of them. You name it, Ramsay deals in it.”

 

“Do you think he has Sansa?” Robb asked.

 

Margaery put the picture on the table and looked up at Jon. “What does Daenerys know about Sansa?”

 

“She’s my sister and she’s missing. That’s it. I didn’t give her any other details,” he said as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

Margaery tilted her head and they remained silent. “Well, we didn’t have this picture until  _ someone _ slid it under your door. No real leads. Whoever gave this to you appears to be an ally.”

 

“And you think it was Daenerys?” Robb questioned.

 

She heaved a deep sigh and shook her head. “It would make sense,” she said as she glanced at Jon. “If you two were involved as heavily as you thought you were, would it make sense that she would try to help you?”

 

Jon glowered at her. “None of this makes sense.”

 

Margaery stood then and moved to stand in front of him. “Turn off your emotions for a moment, both of you. At least where it concerns Daenerys. Concentrate on the fact that we have a true lead for the first time in months. We’ll figure out later where it came from, but let’s concentrate on going through everything we all know about this Ramsay Bolton. I have a suite upstairs with four rooms. We can all move up there and work together. Right now, our priority should be to find Sansa, not Daenerys.”

 

Robb and Jon stared at one another before finally nodding in unison. “Fine,” Robb agreed.

 

Jon shrugged. “Yeah, alright.”

 

*~*

 

Robb stared into his glass of wine as he swirled it. Margaery was typing away on her laptop and Jon had gone into his new room to take a shower. Her suite was a far cry from the cramped room that Jon had been in before. The fact that Daenerys had been staying there with him had his head spinning. 

 

“I can hear you brooding from here,” Margaery said from beside him. “You should leave that to Jon. He looks better doing it than you.”

 

Robb rolled his eyes. “She was staying with him,” he said finally. “She ever stay with you?” he asked, though he didn’t know why.

 

“Never even slept in the same bed,” she said, never taking her eyes off the screen in front of her.

 

He tilted his head as he examined her. “I didn’t know you liked girls,” he commented.

 

Margaery looked up at him then, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth. “I like the finer things in life, Robb. That includes both men and women,” she went back to typing and he slipped further down in his chair. 

 

He finished the wine in his glass and stood to move to the bar in the corner of the room. “She is definitely one of the finer things, isn’t she?”

 

Margaery looked up at him. “Are we going to have this conversation?”

 

“Can’t have it with Jon around as I’m afraid he might shoot me,” he said as he opened the bottle of bourbon, sniffed it, and poured himself a glass. He held it up to her and she nodded so he poured her a glass as well. “How did you meet her?”

 

Margaery nodded her thanks as he handed her the glass. “I was lingerie shopping. She complimented me on my good taste.”

 

“Hot,” he responded with a smile and she sipped at the drink and placed it on the table beside her laptop. “And it went off from there?”

 

She shook her head. “No. I’m not  _ that _ easy. She bought me dinner first,” she said with a laugh. “It  _ went off _ from there.”

 

“Only one dinner?” Robb smirked.

 

“The food was exceptional. As was she,” Margaery said with a smile. “I’ve never been the one being seduced before. It was a rather... unique experience.” She glanced at Jon’s door to see that it was still closed. “And when she sets her sights on you it’s intense.”

 

Robb nodded. “That it is.”

 

Margaery smiled. “And what of you, Mr. Stark? How is it you fell under her spell?”

 

“I was at a party in Morocco, following some low-grade smuggler to get to his boss. Not sure how, but I lost him in the crowd but found Daenerys standing on a balcony wearing this… red sequined dress that was cut nearly down to her arse. I couldn’t even see her face, only the back of her with that silver hair. I had circled back through the room looking for Davos and when I couldn’t find him, she was still there. I figured the evening didn’t have to be a complete loss if I could get her in my bed.”

 

“And did you?”

 

He shook his head. “Not right away. She made me work for it. Dinner, an evening at the opera, drinks...”

 

“Sex.”

 

“Yeah.” He heaved a sigh. “But now that I think about it, I don’t know that we had all that many conversations. She never stayed the night, always found a reason to leave.”

 

Margaery looked thoughtful as she took a sip of the drink he’d handed her. “Same. Yet, she stayed with your brother...”

 

“They were staying in that room _ together, _ Margaery. What was her play with Jon? Information? About who?”

 

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been thinking about this, Robb. Think about what Jon said. They were together six months. He told her about your family, about Sansa. They were staying and traveling together. Does that sound like a job? Someone who is simply out for information?”

 

Robb ran an agitated hand through his hair. “You think what she had with Jon was genuine?”

 

“Closest thing people like us could ever get.” She paused, clicking a nail on the side of her glass. “What if she didn’t know Jon was an agent?”

 

“How would she not know? It’s her  _ job _ to know.”

 

“ _ Our  _ job is to know. We didn’t realize we were being played. Maybe she didn’t realize it either.”

 

He shook his head. “It’s too convenient. Of all the people she happened to fall for...my brother?”

 

“Stranger things have happened.”

 

The door to Jon’s room opened and Margaery gave Robb a look to let him know that this conversation had to be over, for now. Margaery cleared her throat, pulling the attention of both men to her.  “I’ve sent a request in to the agency for all the information they have on Ramsay Bolton. We should have more than just your recon work shortly.”

 

“Do you think he would be keeping Sansa on his property?” Robb questioned.

 

“He’d be a fool, wouldn’t he?” Margaery said with a sigh. “But, if he does have her, maybe we can make him talk.”

 

*~*

 

Daenerys looked out at her back garden as she waited for her team to arrive. Varys, with his many spies all over the world, had been the one to break the news to her that Jon was related to Robb. How the others had all missed it, she didn’t know. It had posed a serious complication. 

 

She turned at the knock on the door and found Jorah, Daario, Greyworm, and Missandei entering the room, Varys following behind. “Well?” she asked. 

 

“They’ve moved into Margaery’s suite together,” Missandei supplied.

 

Varys nodded. “I’ve heard that they are focusing their efforts on Ramsay Bolton, not on finding you, at the moment.”

 

She took a seat on the sofa and looked at the files that lined her coffee table. Each one was a different piece of the empire she would see crumble. Ramsay was only the first step. 

 

Jorah spoke up then, “Daenerys, wouldn’t it have been easier to rescue their sister and return her to them. Why not just deliver her?”

 

She shook her head and sighed. “They need to find the other pieces on their own. I’ve given them the means, now they have to be the ones to see it through.”

 

After a heavy silence, Daario spoke and his words set everyone on edge. “Word is that Jon Snow has vowed to kill you.”

 

Daenerys didn’t look up as she remembered Tyrion’s warning. “I heard that as well,” her reply was clipped and she could only hope they would pick up on her tone that broaching the subject of Jon Snow was not wise. 

 

“Your safety is paramount, Daenerys. Your compound is one of the most secure places in the world,” he continued. “Should you leave...”

 

“Tell me something I don’t know, Daario,” she snapped. 

 

“Jon Snow’s facial recognition software is highly advanced. He would be able to find you no matter where you are in the world. Best stay here until you  _ want _ to be found,” Varys warned.

 

“I have no intentions of going anywhere,” she affirmed, the irritation in her voice unmistakable, then turned her gaze to Daario. “Set up the next phase. It won’t be long before they take Ramsay down and I need medics and caretakers on the ground in Lima to care for those released. Tell them to be prepared for anything.” She looked at Jorah. “Make sure there is enough food. No one will go hungry if we have anything to do with it. Use force to keep Ramsay’s men that manage to escape their eventual raid on the Dreadfort, as he so lovingly calls it.” They all nodded silently and she took a deep breath. “Go. Now. Missandei, you stay.”

 

Jorah, Daario, Greyworm, and Varys left the room, the latter closing the doors behind him. “I need you to do me a favor,” Daenerys said.

 

“Anything.”

 

She walked over to her desk and removed an envelope, sealed with the sigil of her once great house. “I need this delivered to them.” Missandei tilted her head, a quizzical look upon her brow.  Daenerys sighed as the other woman took the envelope. “I need them to remember to chase me, as well. Otherwise, the rest of this won’t work. I’m simply... nudging the hive.”

 

Missandei nodded. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

Daenerys took a deep breath. “Jon Snow may never forgive me. But I could save millions of lives with their help. I’ll live with what happens if that’s my reward in the end.” She pushed the drawer of her desk closed forcefully and her eyes met Missandei’s. “Now, go my friend. I have work to do.”


	3. I Awake To Find No Peace of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A spy in the network of spies?” Robb slouched in his chair, feeling a slight measure of defeat. It was one thing for someone to miss something, it was quite another to think that they were being deliberately kept in the dark. What point and purpose would that serve?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thank you to the extraordinary FrostBitePanda for doing a splendid job in betaing this damn thing. Believe me, it's REALLY rough when she gets it. 
> 
> And to the rest of the lovely, discernable tarts (sparkles59, NoOrdinaryLines, meisie, and jaqtkd) thank you for being awesome women!
> 
> I know some people take issue where this fic started...but I hope you'll stick around to see where it ends up. I've got a lot planned and this chapter should tell you that. Jon is extra salty, people get played, and the wheels are in motion elsewhere.

Jon awoke the next morning to the sounds of talking and plates and silverware clanking around. He sat up and held his head and pushed the empty bottle of Jim Beam off his bed and to the floor. His headache was monstrous and he was just about climbing out of bed to get his gun to shoot Margaery and Robb for all the noise. 

 

As he put his feet on the floor, he decided that would be a horrible decision--too loud and bloody. He looked at his knife lying beside his gun and wondered if that would be any cleaner.

 

He tugged on his jeans and a t-shirt and exited from the bedroom, ignoring both of them as they told him good morning. 

 

Jon sat in the empty chair at the table and poured himself a mug of coffee and began drinking it down, ignoring the scalding heat of it. He needed his head to stop throbbing and he needed them to stop looking at him like he was going to explode at any second. If he truly thought about her for longer than a moment he was apt to actually punch his brother in the face. 

 

That wasn’t rational. 

 

Robb hadn’t known.

 

Margaery was the first to speak. “Enjoying your hangover?”

 

“Fuck off,” he said as he poured more coffee into his cup. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the plate in front of him, acutely aware that they were still staring at him. He finally heaved a sigh and engaged, “What?”

 

Robb shook his head and turned back to his food. “It can wait.”

 

“Although,” Margaery said with a sigh, “he doesn’t have his gun on him so now might be a good time to tell him.”

 

Jon looked between the two of them, a scowl on his face. Secrets. More secrets. His entire life was built on them. He waved his hand at them, giving him permission to ruin his day. He wasn’t sure he could feel much worse.

 

Robb handed him an envelope. Jon tore it open and there it was: her neatly scrawled handwriting with wide flourishes on the ‘y’. 

 

_ Robb, my dear Robb. The time we had together was interesting. If I could describe you, I would use the word ‘determined’. Of course, I knew how to put that to proper use. _

 

_ Margaery, on the other hand-- focused, calculating, delicious. _

 

_ I hope the three of you don’t forget about me. I know I won’t forget about you. _

 

At the bottom was the imprint of her lips. Robb. Margaery. Nothing about him except to acknowledge that he was with them. He stood from the table and walked to the bar. He grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels and walked back to his coffee and poured liberally, still very aware that Robb and Margaery were watching him.

 

“We’re still going to find her and kill her, right?” Jon asked after a moment.

 

Margaery nodded. “As a team.”

 

He finished his coffee and he went to pour more Jack into his mug, but Robb’s hand over it stopped him. “We need you sober. Hard as that might be for you.”

 

Jon put the bottle on the table and looked at them both expectantly. “Well?”

 

Margaery handed him her iPad. “Ramsay first.” He reluctantly nodded and she continued. “Ramsay Bolton, bastard son of Roose Bolton. Roose is involved in the political schemes of several high ranking diplomats in several countries in South America. He’s gained power by...well by fear People go missing, only to turn up later without their skin.” Jon scowled at the description. 

 

“Ramsay seems to be walking his father’s path. He has a taste for young girls. He’s known to be charming, funny, and then ruthless when he’s finally got them in his clutches.” Jon slid from picture to picture until he landed on the one with Sansa. “Your sister was visiting friends in Peru when she went missing. That picture is taken at a hotel in Lima. She’s never seen leaving and neither is he.” 

 

Jon heaved a sigh, wanting to put a bullet between Ramsay’s eyes and save the world a lot of trouble. “Ramsay is involved in money laundering, drugs, and the worst part of all, sex trafficking.”

 

Jon leaned back in his chair, put the iPad back on the table and looked at them as he ran a frustrated hand through his dark curls. Irritation and anger seemed to be the only emotions he could feel as he would not allow hope to curl around his heart. Hope that they might actually be able to find the sister they missed so desperately. “That’s what I got when I was watching him. Tell me something I don’t know.”

 

“There is no photographic evidence that he ever let Sansa leave the Dreadfort,” Robb said, his voice low. “Which means...”

 

Margaery took the iPad back and hit another file to open it. Jon was surprised to see blueprints. “What are these?”

Robb pointed at the tablet with his fork. “Those are blueprints to the Dreadfort.”

 

Jon looked up at them both, surprised and weary. “And where did we get these?”

 

“The agency sent them over this morning. They don’t have a lot on Ramsay, but what they do was quite useful. Robb and I thought perhaps you could go out and do your recon thing and gather a bit more information.”

 

Jon looked up at them and heaved a sigh. “And what will the two of you do?”

 

“I have an associate who has dealings with the Boltons. I’m going to see if I can get a meeting with him,” Robb answered as he sipped at his orange juice, looking completely unrattled. 

 

“And you?” Jon asked Margaery.

 

She smiled. “Draw attention to myself. See if I can catch his eye.”

 

“And if he doesn’t take interest?” Jon questioned. 

 

Margaery gave him a withering look, her eyes, normally so playful turned hard and cold. “He will. They always do.” Jon stood from the table and started for his room. “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked.

 

“No,” he called over his shoulder and shut the doors behind him. 

 

*~*

 

She popped another berry into her mouth and Robb examined the chair Jon had just abandoned. He heaved a sigh before he ate a bite of bacon. “He took the note,” Robb pointed out.

 

“She didn’t mention him,” she said softly. “She doesn’t mind playing with you or I, tormenting us, but she takes issue with doing that to Jon?”

 

“Perhaps the torment to Jon is that she’s tormenting  _ us _ . Think he’s the bait we need?” Robb questioned. “We could use him to draw her out,” but as he said the words they felt like lead on his tongue. The thought of using his own brother to help exact revenge caused him a great deal of heartache. 

 

Margaery shook her head, obviously sensing that Robb wouldn’t be settled with the idea. “He would never forgive you. As it is, I think you’re on a slippery slope with him. After all, you’re his brother and you did fuck the woman he loved.”

 

“You fucked her, too.” Robb wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I didn’t know.”

 

“Neither did he,” she said as she took a bite. “Do you think  _ she _ did?”

 

“If her intelligence team was worth a damn... then she knew.”

 

Margaery shook her head. “Neither of us knew she was entangled with Jon. We knew loads about her but not that. How did  _ we _ miss it?”

 

Robb shook his head before grabbing the Jack Daniels and pouring it into his own coffee. Margaery rolled her eyes. “Seems to me, there’s a faulty line of communication with the agency.”

 

Margaery tilted her head in thought. “Or we were blatantly not told.”

 

“A spy in the network of spies?” Robb slouched in his chair, feeling a slight measure of defeat. It was one thing for someone to miss something, it was quite another to think that they were being deliberately kept in the dark. What point and purpose would that serve? 

 

Jon exited from his room, now wearing his jacket and sunglasses with his camera bag hanging at his side. “Be careful,” Robb called to Jon as he reached for the door.

 

He stopped for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. He looked over at his brother, Robb unable to see the look in his eyes due to the thick shades. He half expected Jon to say something, but he didn’t. He nodded at them once before he was gone.

 

“He’s making me anxious,” Margaery said with a huff. “How long do we have to deal with him brooding like this?”

 

Robb chuckled. “It’s cute that you think he’ll ever stop brooding. Nice. Keep hold of  _ that _ dream,” he said as he ate another bite of bacon.

 

*~*

 

_ Daenerys lounged in the bed, her body aching with a sweet lethargy that only came from really good sex. They had fun together. She was able to let herself go and just be a girl who fancied a boy.  _

 

_ She did wish he had more luxurious tastes, as his selection in hotel rooms left a lot to be desired. Always small rooms with lackluster sheets. She would get them the room next time. Perhaps a suite.  _

 

_ She heard the shower turn on and was just about to join him when a knock sounded at the door. She grabbed one of the fluffy terry cloth robes and pulled it on as she walked to the door, looking through the peephole. She nearly panicked to see Varys. He knew better than to arrive at her door like this.  _

 

_ “What are you doing here?” she hissed as she flung the door open. _

 

_ He looked apologetic. “A recent development has caused me to break protocol,” he said as he reached inside his jacket and removed a picture. “My little birds delivered this to me, today.” _

 

_ She looked at the picture and leaned back against the door, her mouth falling open as she looked up at the man known as ‘The Spider’. The best at finding secrets.  _

 

_ “What is this?” _

 

_ “A family portrait. I thought you should know.” _

 

_ She took a shaky breath and handed the picture back to him, her hands shaking. “This... changes things.” She frowned. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning. We’re going to have to push things forward a bit.” _

 

_ Varys eyed her curiously for a moment. “Are you going to tell him?” _

 

_ She shook her head. “And have the best assassin in the world on me in an instant? No.” _

 

_ “Jon Snow doesn’t kill people any more, Miss Targaryen. He only follows people; leaves the killing for others, nowadays.” _

 

_ “I have a feeling that this might bring him out of retirement,” she said with a shake of her head. She thought she was doing a remarkable job of not crying hysterically on the floor. She knew what Jon was, but to find out that he was Robb’s brother? He might forgive her for sleeping with another man, but she didn’t know if he would forgive her for this. “Which we may actually need. I’ll go into hiding for a bit.” _

 

_ “Of course. Anything else you’d like from me, Miss Targaryen?” _

 

_ Daenerys looked at the crack in the door and could still hear the shower. “Leave me,” she ordered and watched him move down the hallway. She went back into the room and leaned against the door as she felt tears well in her eyes, blurring her vision. She shucked the robe and made her way into the shower with a smiling Jon. _

 

_ “You alright?” he questioned. _

 

_ “I’ll be better once you’re inside me,” she whispered against his lips. _

 

“Daenerys.” She looked up to see Missandei staring at her. “Sorry to disturb you.”

 

Daenerys shook her head. “It’s fine.”

 

“Everyone is in place. Our sources report that they are currently gathering information about Ramsay and they received the blueprints of the Dreadfort that you provided.”

 

“Wonderful.”

 

“We could go in and try to liberate Sansa and the other girls,” Missandei offered. “Jorah, Grey, Daario, and I. We don’t have to wait for them.”

 

She shook her head, not willing to lose another member of her team. Though, she didn’t want to think about possibly losing Jon, either. She wished it could have been different. She wished she could have brought him in. Maybe that would have been better than hurting them all the way she did. She heaved a sigh and knew that it was done and it didn’t do to dwell on the past. If she looked back, then she was lost.

 

“No. I’ll not lose any of you. You’re too valuable to our process. All of you.”

 

Missandei frowned and clasped her hands in front of her. “Barristan was not your fault,” she reassured her.

 

Daenerys stood from her chair and moved to the window that overlooked her terrace. “It feels like my fault,” she said softly and then turned to Missandei. “You delivered the note?”

 

She nodded. “I did.” she paused, considering. “But why torment Robb and Margaery? Would that not make it...well, too obvious?”

 

She folded her arms over her chest, trying to block out the thought of his dark eyes and enticing lips. The last day they spent together had been wonderful. She had left before the sun rose the following day, leaving a note telling him to meet her later for a rendezvous in the hotel. She’d been half-way across the country, tucked away in Tyrion’s penthouse before any of them had a clue that they’d all been had. Jon was the hardest. Robb and Margaery were just a part of the plan. “Tormenting only Robb and Margaery  _ is a torment _ to Jon. Nothing a man hates more than being ignored. If that’s all?” she asked as she glanced over her shoulder at Missandei.

 

“One question. What happens if they succeed and find you before you’re ready?”

 

She was silent for a moment and then sighed. “We’ll do what we must.”

 

“You realize that means, right? That it would be all of them?”

 

“Yes,” she whispered,“All of them.”

 

*~*

 

Robb strummed his fingers on the bar as he waited for his contact to arrive. He leaned against the polished wood, hoping they would arrive soon, anxious to find some hint of his sister. If, for no other reason, than to give Jon some peace.

 

“I hope you’ve already ordered me a drink as I won’t sit around waiting for your hospitality,” the cranky old man said as he sat beside Robb. Walder Frey was a cantankerous old codger on the best of days. Robb pushed the drink over to him, both silent for a few moments. “Heard you got played by the Targaryen bitch. Not very good at your job?”

 

Robb rolled his eyes. Obviously, what happened with Daenerys had been fodder for the gossips amongst their world. “Bad intel,” he said softly before he sipped his drink. 

 

“Heard the White Wolf is back in action. He killed anyone yet?” 

 

Jon’s reputation was well known. There was no better killer than his brother. In fact, most people were afraid of him. Robb didn’t know what the catalyst was for Jon’s sudden retirement from killing, and he doubted seriously that his brother would open up to him about that particular issue now. He ran a hand over his chin and shook his head. “Not yet.”

 

“Well, if he wants, he can start with this cunt, Ramsay. Done nothing but drive out respectable underlords what with his and his father’s penchant for flaying people alive. No one wants that sort of death. Anyone willing to perpetrate it needs to be run out.”

 

“What can you tell me about Ramsay?”

 

Walder made a grunt before he downed his drink and ordered another. “He’s sadistic. Travels with a bodyguard named Locke. Right nasty piece of work that one. If there was a man out there who enjoyed hurting people as much as Ramsay, it’s him.”

 

“What about his business?” Robb asked, scratching his chin before taking a drink.

 

“Which business is that? Weapons, drugs, girls...”

 

“Girls,” he said softly.

 

Walder smirked meanly. “Why? Interested in some of his crop?”

 

Robb clenched his glass in his hand and tried to remember that he needed Walder for information and punching him in the face would be ill-advised. “Where does he keep them?”

 

“Locked away in his Dreadfort. Those that don’t end up flayed and in their family’s living rooms, that is.”

 

Robb had a bit of hope spring in his chest, but he dared not cling to it. He couldn’t. The chances of Sansa being alive were slim. But they hadn’t found her body. Hadn’t found anything, really. He looked at Walder and stood. “You’ve been a lot of help.”

 

“That’s it? That’s all I get?”

 

Robb tossed some money on the bar to pay for the drinks. “I paid for your drink.”

 

“I was promised cash.”

 

“Not by me, you weren’t,” he said lowly. “I’d leave town. Soon,” he warned and left the bar.

 

*~*

 

Robb entered the hotel room and saw that Jon wasn’t back yet. Margaery's door was cracked and as he walked up to it, he stopped at seeing her staring at herself in the full-length mirror as she applied her make-up. She was still in her bra and panties, but the door closed behind him with a telling ‘click’ and she called out to him. “Robb or Jon?”

 

He pushed open the door and leaned against the door frame. “Robb,” he said with a slight smile. “That is a rather risque outfit.”

 

She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder and gave him her patented half-smile that was more a smirk. “It would get the job of seduction done, wouldn’t it?”

 

He nodded and admired the view unashamed. She didn’t seem to mind as she made no moves to cover herself. “Works for me,” he chuckled.

 

“What did cranky old Walder say?”

 

Robb sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Ramsay keeps what girls he doesn’t kill in his fortress. Which means that  _ if  _ Ramsay has Sansa, she would be there.”

 

Margaery turned to look at him then, her expression grave. “Let’s hope that Jon’s surveillance proves to be useful.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“There’s a club that Ramsay frequents. I’m going to make myself at home,” she said with a smile and pointed to three dresses on the bed. All were short, low-cut numbers that he had no problem picturing her in. There was a red sequined dress that had long sleeves and a high collar, a silver strapless dress with an empire waist that flowed into soft chiffon, and a black cocktail dress with cutout designs from the hips to just beneath her breasts. “Which dress?” She asked.

 

He picked up the red dress and realized that while the front of the dress might be demure, the back was anything but. It was open to just above the dip in her spine. He tilted his head as he examined each one and finally did settle on the one in his hands. “The red. But,” he said as he moved over to her and moved her hair to one shoulder, “sweep this to one side and you’ll have to lose the bra,” he said softly and their eyes met in the mirror. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he felt  the heat in her gaze, but the outer door closing snapped them both out of the sudden lust filled haze and he moved away from her.

 

“Jon?” Robb called, doing his best not to stare at Margaery.

 

“Yeah,” he called from the other room. Robb gave one last look at Margaery who was now pinning her hair in place before he joined Jon in the other room. “Get anything?”

 

“Comings and goings of people. I heard that he had a meeting later tonight. Some old man named... Walder Frey?”

 

Robb looked at Jon in alarm. “Walder? You’re sure you heard that right?”

 

“Yeah. Why?”

 

“Margaery! Jon and I are leaving!”

 

She came out of the room to see Robb rushing to the door and Jon following behind him confused. “What? Where are you going?”

 

“Lock the door and don’t leave until we get back. Keep your gun on you,” he warned as he opened the door and rushed out.

 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Jon asked.

 

“Walder Frey is who I met with this morning for information on Ramsay.”

  
  


*~*

 

Jon looked around, counting three bodies along with Walder, a gunshot wound to the head at his dining room table. His guards were found shot through the head in front of the door to his hotel room. He examined the gunshot, noting that it was a small caliber bullet and it left a clean exit wound.

 

Robb tucked his gun into the back of his pants as he looked at the pictures scattered on the table in front of Walder. They were of Jon, Robb, and Margaery. Even a few of Jon arriving a few days earlier with Daenerys. “He’s been watching us for a while.”

 

Jon quickly grabbed up all of the pictures from the table and tucked them into an envelope. “Let’s go. Before anyone finds us here,” he said to Robb, nodding towards the door. Robb was thankful that Jon had the good sense to shoot out the cameras when they had arrived as he followed his brother out of the hotel.. 

 

*~*

 

_ Walder Frey and his guards are dead. _

 

“And did you get the pictures?” she questioned Daario.

 

_ No. I heard someone coming and had to leave through the balcony. Jon Snow and Robb Stark have them. _

 

“Well, that’s unexpected. Walder double-crossing Robb was unfortunate. But good. Stick around Daario. If they get in trouble, help them, but you’re not allowed to die, do you hear me?”

 

_ I hear you. Margaery is supposed to intercept Ramsay tonight. I’ll let you know what happens. _

 

Daenerys smiled as she thought about the wiley Margaery. “I’m sure she’ll get her prey.” She shifted the phone to her other ear, fiddling with a pen on her desk. “Be safe and stay out of sight.”

 

_ Same to you. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come!


	4. Maybe I'm A Different Breed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery puts her plan into action and the White Wolf officially comes out of retirement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long time between updates. It takes me a bit to get geared up for writing this one because I have it so planned out which is really out of my norm.
> 
> A HUGE shoutout goes to FrostbitePanda for betaing this chapter. You guys have no idea what sort of garbage you get before other people get their hands on it. 
> 
> As usual, thanks to the Discerning Tarts for their unwavering support - meisie, sparkles59, jaqtkd, noordinarylines, FrostbitePanda, and justwanderingneverlost. 
> 
> Surgery was had and I’m on the mend. Physical torture (therapy) is going well.

  
  


The ride back to the hotel had been short and silent. Jon had sat wordlessly and glowering next to Robb the whole way, never once even looking over at him. It troubled him. Feeling bereft without the comforting companionship with his brother, Robb sought out a different refuge.  He went to Margaery’s room and knocked on the door.

 

“Margaery, we’re back. Come out and let’s talk,” he moved away from the door and made his way over to the bar.

 

“And how do I know you’re Robb Stark?” she called back.

 

“I told you to wear the red dress,” he replied  as he poured a bourbon for himself.

 

The door opened and Margaery emerged wearing a silk robe, her hair pinned to the side as he had suggested.  He took a sip of his drink as he admired her draped in silk for only a moment before being  by Jon coming out of his room with his laptop open. He moved to sit on the sofa, beginning to type away. 

 

“What happened?” Margaery finally asked, realizing Jon wasn’t going to give her any information. She turned her eyes to Robb who stood at the bar, glaring at his brother. 

 

She knew, eventually, the two brothers would have to hash this Daenerys thing out. Margaery could see by the lines around Robb’s eyes and lips that he was biting back his frustration. Jon took the option of mostly ignoring his brother’s presence unless otherwise unavoidable. She briefly pondered why Jon wasn’t also angry at her... was it because she was a woman? Was it because the thought turned him on? She knew it did Robb. 

 

Robb’s gaze finally met hers and he poured himself another bourbon. “Jon’s recon this afternoon. He heard one of Ramsay’s thugs making plans to meet with Walder Frey.”

 

Margaery wrinkled her nose and put her hands on her hips. “I hope you killed him.”

 

Jon heaved a sigh and looked up at her briefly before turning back to his computer. She noticed him slide a picture into a slot beneath his laptop and it fed to the other end. She thought that a scanner built into a laptop was rather ingenious. “ _ We _ didn’t,” Jon finally spoke, “Someone was there before us.”

 

“Who?”

 

Robb folded his arms over his chest. “It has to be Daenerys.”

 

Jon tossed the pictures they’d taken from Walder’s room onto the coffee table and nodded at them for Margaery to have a look. She flipped through them and tilted her head. “This is a good picture of me,” she said casually. Both Jon and Robb looked at her incredulity and she smiled. “What? It is,” she said as she held the picture out for Robb. 

 

“Good pictures aside, we have a few problems,” Jon began, his impatience with Margaery reflecting in his tone. “One, did Walder talk to Ramsay? Two, there is someone out there getting information faster than we are and using it better. Everyone in Frey’s hotel suite was dead. That’s either a damn good marksman or it was more than one person.”

 

Robb sat beside Jon and watched him enter pictures taken from Frey’s room of Daenerys into the database for his facial recognition software. “Alright, so tackle each one head on. You can do some recon and see if you hear anything about us or that they even have a clue we’re here, listen for information about girls being held on the property, get names of security guards.  As to the second issue, I think we all know damn well who is ahead of us because  _ she  _ has been ever since this started.”

 

Margaery sat on the sofa beside Jon and examined the pictures. “Frey obviously had us followed.. We could still have a tail.”

 

Robb looked over at her and frowned. “I think you need to postpone your trip out to the club. It’s too dangerous right now.”

 

Her eyes narrowed at him, but knew that he was probably right. They weren’t certain how many people knew they were there, muchless working together.

 

Jon stood and moved past Robb over to the bar and opened the bottle of Jim Beam and moved back to his place on the sofa between the two of them, placing the bottle beside his laptop, then pulled up a screen that had sixteen black and white video feeds showing various parts of the hotel they were staying in. “I won’t leave tonight. We’ll all stay in the room. I have cameras set up in the lobby, the elevators, and the hallways. We can take shifts watching them, but no one leaves tonight. If you see so much as a maid in the hall, you let the other two know.”

 

Margaery touched the lip of the open bottle and looked at Jon. “Perhaps you do this sober...”

 

“I have better aim when I’ve had a drink,” he answered and picked up the bottle and put it to his lips. “Imagine how good I am when I’ve had a bottle,” he said as he stood again, walking to his room. “One of you take the first shift.”

 

Robb heaved a sigh and stared at the screen. “I suppose I’ll take first shift,” he said as looked over at her. “We’ll give Jon the last.”

 

“He’ll be done with that bottle by then.” Margaery wrinkled her nose as she watched Robb remove his jacket and she craned her neck over the back of the couch, making sure they were truly alone. This was probably as good a time as any, she decided.. “How long are you going to allow this to go on?”

 

Robb ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. “And what would you have me do or say? ‘I’m sorry I fucked the woman you were in love with’?”

 

“Better than allowing this to continue.”

 

He folded his arms over his chest and winced. “Is it? I feel like he’s five seconds from pulling out his gun and killing me.” He looked over at her and her face creased in clear skepticism. “Fine. Not _ kill _ me. But he’d definitely shoot me in the leg.”

 

She chuckled and examined the cameras, her eyes flickering from one screen to another. “When did he install these?”

 

Robb shook his head and snorted out a laugh. “Who knows? There’s a reason he’s the best at recon.”

 

“Yes, but he was the best at killing, first. What happened? Why did he stop?”

 

He shrugged and rubbed a hand over his face. “No idea. I didn’t even know he was the  _ White Wolf _ until he officially retired as a killer.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as picked at his nails, not looking at Margaery.  “What was the official number?”

 

“In one hit or overall?”

 

“Overall.”

 

“He cleared that one building... what was it called? Castle Black? I think there were nearly fifty bodies in there. Ten killed with a knife,” she said softly. “I think Tyrion said the final number was two-hundred thirty four.”

 

He stared at her, his wide blue eyes clearly showing his shock at the admission. When he turned from her his brow wrinkled as he lost himself in thought of what his brother used to be before Sansa had been taken. Jon had always been solemn-- that came with being the veritable black sheep of the family. Robb couldn’t fathom what a life of constant death could do to an already lonely soul. “I shudder at the thought of what actually made him stop,” he said aloud even as he rubbed his hand over his chin. Assassins weren’t usually known to retire to do recon work, but Jon had been granted his request. To have his brother ask for an out and be given something meant they still needed him around, but Robb knew Jon well enough to know that something important, some significant event, had changed his course.  

 

“What’s your number, Robb?” 

 

“What’s yours?” he asked, breaking his eyes away from her.

 

“Twenty-one.”

 

“Forty,” he answered softly. 

 

He looked to the floor, realizing with some sick thrill that both their numbers combined did not even equal half of his brother’s. “Do you think he’ll actually be able to kill Daenerys?”

 

Margaery shrugged and examined her nails. “If you were in his place, would you?”

 

“I want to, now.”

 

“I’ve been thinking about something, and I want you to hear me out.  _ Why _ are we actually going to kill her?”

 

Robb’s eyes met hers again, her eyebrow raised in question. “She played us. She used each of us for information.”

 

She stood then and heaved a sigh. “Oh, I believe she conned  _ us _ ,” she said as she walked to the door of her bedroom. “I have my doubts about him, though. Don’t you?”

 

He tilted his head and shrugged. “Possibly. Some of it doesn’t make sense.”

 

Margaery turned her back to him and walked into her room, pushing the doors shut behind her, but lingering long enough for him to see her drop her robe, revealing her bare back and lace covered arse. He licked his lips and looked back at the cameras. Duty. He had a duty, a job. He had to watch the cameras. Their lives could depend on it.

 

But damn Margaery was teasing the hell out of him and he was fucking certain that it was on purpose.

 

*~*

 

A full five days passed, someone always watching the cameras. Jon had also managed to  bug one of the ear pieces one of Ramsay’s outside guards, giving them the opportunity to listen in for anything that could indicate that he knew of them or their location,  even something about the location of Sansa. So far, it had only been the coming and goings of the Dreadfort and what patrols they were to watch.  

 

Meanwhile, they continued to pore over the blueprints of the fortress. Interestingly,, the majority of the building was underground. Two floors sat above ground, in all appearances nothing more than  a normal mansion. However, hidden rooms with large  doors and thick walls extended three stories below the surface. Any attack on the Dreadfort would need to be well manned and well planned. 

 

Jon had tried to remain aloof towards his two partners. He _knew_ his brother had been played. He _knew_ that what had happened was not some sort of deliberate betrayal...Robb would never...yet Jon still felt the bitter edge of anger dig into him night and day like a tick--growing huge and greedy on the heady heat of his fury. Another reason to hate Daenerys, in his opinion.

 

That wasn’t rational. Jon knew it.

 

But he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling. When he looked at his brother, traitorous thoughts of what they’d done together entered his head: did she enjoy her time with him? Was he better? Did she love Robb? Did she get a thrill out of knowing what she was doing? 

 

Then there was Margaery.  She had been seduced just the same. He didn’t feel betrayed by her, but felt it for Daenerys. She took two lovers while with him. Why not end things? Why not confess something? Why allow him to find all of this out as she had so that he would hate her. Eventually, he would be able to look at Robb and not want to drive a knife into his hand. He didn’t feel that angry resolve with Margaery, but then, she wasn’t his family, his brother.

 

The door to Margaery’s room opened and he looked up to see her wearing a red sequined dress with long sleeves. But when she turned to examine herself in the mirror, the dress was completely backless. Her hair was pulled to one side and he looked at Robb to see him transfixed.  _ Wonderful _ . He knew that, eventually, whatever was brewing between Margaery and Robb would explode and they wouldn’t hesitate fucking one another. Jon inwardly groaned, turning to his laptop.

 

“Where are you going?” Jon finally questioned, realizing his brother was too busy staring to ask questions.

 

“I’m going with our original plan from five days ago. I’m going to the club in hopes of running into Ramsay.”

 

“I thought you agreed not to do that until we had more information.”

 

She slid her earring on and turned to face them, her mouth twitching into what she called a smile. “We’ve received what information we need. If they knew we were here they would have already come after us.  They haven’t even mentioned us over their comm system. So, I’m carrying on,” she said as she examined the contents of her clutch. She removed a small pistol and placed it on the table beside the sofa. 

 

Robb was on his feet then and shrugging on his suit jacket. “Then we’re coming with you.”

 

Jon looked up at him and furrowed his brow. “Why?”

 

“Safety in numbers. What if this is all a trap to lure us out? You need backup,” Robb reasoned. 

 

Margaery didn’t take this as reasonable or acceptable. “I’m not sure you’re aware of this or not, but I’ve been doing this for years without  _ backup _ . I’m quite good at my job. So, the two of you can stay here and out of my way.”

 

Robb turned to Jon and he could see that he was going to pull him into their argument. “Jon, tell her it’s dangerous.”

 

Jon gave a nod. “It is dangerous,” he said, to which Margaery glared daggers at him, her hands on her hips, “ _ but _ so are the other missions she’s been on alone.”

 

“You don’t think we should go with her?”

 

Jon rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and took a deep breath. “No.” He would placate Robb once she was gone. 

 

He walked into his room and came out with a small case and placed it on the small table and crooked his finger at Margaery to join him. He held up a small chip and placed it on the back of her earring. “If you get into trouble, touch the back of your earring.It’s a homing beacon. We’ll find you.”

 

“If he doesn’t rip her earrings out,” Robb offered, his arms folded over his chest. 

 

Margaery gave Jon a smile. “You’re better at this game than we are.”

 

Jon turned his attention back to the item stuck to the back of her earring. “It goes directly to my watch. If you get in trouble, click it as soon as you can, and we’ll come get you.”

 

She nodded and turned to Robb, a triumphant smile on her face before she took her clutch and left. Jon could see Robb working up a head of steam to give him ‘what for’ when he held up his hand and pointed to the laptop with the cameras. They both watched her get to lobby and exit the building.

 

“I agree with you,” Jon said as he grabbed his jacket, tucked a knife into his boot, a gun in the holster at his chest and several more rounds tucked into his pockets. “It’s dangerous, and too dangerous for her to go on her own. But arguing with her about it wasn’t going to get either of you anywhere. We’ll let her go ahead of us and we’ll follow her based on the homing beacon”.

 

Robb made sure he had a bullet already in the chamber as he tucked his gun into its holster. “She’s right. You’re better at this than we are,” he said as he opened the door and exited. Jon closed the door behind him, locked it, and Robb watched as he touched around the side of the door and pressed a button. “What was that?”

 

“You don’t think I’d actually trust people not to go into our room, do you? It’s a precaution. If someone picks the locks, goes in through the window, all of those entrance points will explode the second someone crosses them. Only the key will keep that from happening.”

 

Robb and Jon walked down the hall. “I was wrong,” Robb said with a laugh and Jon looked over at him as they entered the elevator. “You’re on a completely different _ level  _ than we are.”

 

*~*

 

They had taken a place at the bar upstairs from the dancing patrons below. Margaery had quickly found a group of girls to latch onto, becoming instant friends with them. They all danced and laughed and Robb wondered how she made so much of this seem so effortless. Robb leaned against the rail that overlooked the dance floor as two girls chatted with him and Jon. 

 

His brother was able to pull off the aloof loner in a way he’d never seen before. It was clear to Robb that he had absolutely no interest in her, but he did lean forward and whisper in the girl’s ear and she laughed. For Robb’s part, his attention was torn between the girl in front of him, and Margaery’s lithe body moving on the dance floor. Jon’s eyes suddenly met his and he felt instantly aware that the person they’d been waiting for had just entered the room. 

 

Jon put his back to the rail and went back to chatting with the girl. Robb sent the two girls they were talking to with a credit card to buy them all a round of drinks. He looked down at the club below them and watched Ramsay take up a seat in the VIP area. “He see her yet?” Jon asked and his brother took a breath.

 

“No...wait, yes,” he said as the two girls joined them once more, Jon whispered something in the girl’s ear that caused her to laugh. Robb, however, never took his eyes off Margaery who was now face to face with Ramsay. His mere presence had run off the people she was dancing with, and she looked thoroughly unimpressed. 

 

Robb wanted to get rid of the woman at his side so he could pay attention, but, they played it cool. Act as though they were there for precisely the reason most single men would be--to find girls. And so he took the drink and his credit card back from her, allowing her to press herself against him. He smirked over at her as she ran her blood red fingernails against his throat. The girl with Jon suddenly pitched forward, grabbing her stomach and her friend looked horrified as she vomited the contents of her drink over the floor. 

 

She began carting her friend off to the bathroom. “What did you do?” Robb asked sharply.

 

“We needed them gone,” he said with a shrug.

 

“What did you  _ do _ ?” he repeated with a snarl.

 

Jon rolled his eyes as someone came over to clean up the mess. “She’ll be fine. It’s only meant to upset the stomach,” he replied, still keeping his back to the bar below. “What’s happening?”

 

Robb wrinkled his nose. “She’s having to dance with him.”

 

“Keeping his hands where he should?”

 

“Yes, and now I think I might vomit as she’s laughing at something he said and letting him touch her.”

 

“It’s a job, Robb,” Jon said as he took a sip of his drink. “She’s going to need a shower when she’s done just to get the evil properly washed off of her.”

 

“How does a guy like Ramsay exist for so long?”

 

His brother shrugged and examined his watch. “People don’t like to disrupt the status quo. As long as their lives aren’t immediately impacted, you’d be shocked what horrors some people are willing to turn a blind eye to.”

 

Robb looked over at him, seeing his brother from a new perspective. Knowing what he knew now about his brother’s ‘work’... “Speaking from personal experience?

 

“Not in the mood to have a heart-to-heart with you,” Jon answered quickly.

 

“Fine,” Robb said with a shake of his head as he watched Margaery be led to the VIP area and a drink ordered for her. “He’s ordered her a drink and they’re in his area.”

 

“We should move downstairs. You go first. Make sure she can’t see us.”

 

*~*

 

Margaery took a sip of the drink, only didn’t allow any of it to actually enter her mouth. “Mmm, that’s rather delicious. What is it?”

 

“Simply cranberry and vodka. You couldn’t tell?”

 

“I could tell it had vodka. I usually don’t drink when I’m out dancing,” she answered and looked around the club. 

 

“Still don’t spot your friend?”

 

“No,” she replied. “I should probably go to the lady’s room and check on her.”

 

Ramsay gave a small smile and shook his head. “I’d rather not keep up the pretence that you’re here with someone or that you took a sip of that drink.”

 

She furrowed her brow at him and contemplated triggering the beacon on the back of her earring, but hesitated as she decided to play dumb. Men tended to expect that from beautiful women. “I don’t understand.”

 

He leaned into her personal space she suddenly felt the blade of a knife in her side. “You see, my dear  _ Margaery Tyrell _ , we’ve known you were here. You and your wolves. We simply thought it would be best to wait for you to come to us.”

 

Margaery could feel her heart racing, however, she kept the stupid smile on her face. “I’m staying in a hotel. They don’t allow pets.”

 

“Don’t worry, my dear, by the end of the night, I’ll have them both put down. And you, well,” his voice dropped to a harsh warning, “you won’t need this dress. Then again, I might let you keep it. It is rather fetching. How many people would pay for  _ The Rose _ to still have such pretty petals when they buy her.” The smile left his face, and the blade pushed harsher into her side. “On your feet, lovely.”

 

She contemplated fighting him here, but Locke moved the flap of his coat letting her know that he was armed. Margaery always hated the thought of innocent people dying. She stood slowly, knowing that the type of man Ramsay was, he would gut her here in the club and have Locke kill everyone in it. They stopped walking  and Ramsay looked over at his associate. “We have wolves out in the open.”

 

Margaery refused to look around as Locke nodded to the bartender and the three of them exited from the bar together. Once she was shoved inside the car, she was going to break Ramsay’s nose, only she felt a cloth close over her mouth and nose. The sudden terror that washed over her was the last thing she felt before everything went dark.

 

*~*

 

Jon felt panic as what he feared was now unfolding before him. He and Robb were rushing toward the door when the girl from earlier that had been hanging on Robb was shoved into Robb, tears streaming down her face. “They killed Carmen,” she cried. 

 

A large man standing behind her showed them both his gun. “Give yours over or we’ll open fire in this club and you two good-guys don’t want that to happen.” 

 

Jon could see that Robb was about to comply. “Outside gentlemen,” Jon said quickly, “We’ll comply, just...you don’t have to hurt any of these people. You don’t want to let the club owners know we’re all armed do you? That sounds like the police might get involved.” He put as much sincerity into his words as he could muster, letting them believe that he was just as they had assumed. 

 

His knife was in his boot, and his gun was accessible--  _ enough. _ As Ramsay’s goons led them out of the club, his mind worked fast, calculating how to get out of here with no collateral damage.

 

As the door to the alley shut behind them,  Jon punched the man in front of him in the throat as soon as he turned around. The goon went down sputtering and Jon pivoted, pulling his gun from its holster in an instant, shooting the other man in the head before he could even move to grab his own weapon. Jon pivoted again, sending a bullet into the forehead of the first man he had sent reeling before he could even stand.

 

Jon looked to the girl. “Run as far and as fast as you can. We’ll make sure someone takes care of your friend.”

 

She had blood spattered on her face, looking both shocked and terrified, and Jon pushed her towards the opening in the alley. She finally ran when he he held the gun at her, patience run dry. Jon tucked his gun into his pocket, slid on some black leather gloves and began to go through the dead men's pockets.

 

“Stop staring at me like that,” Jon warned over his shoulder.

 

That seemed to snap Robb out of it. He pulled out his phone and called Tyrion. 

 

_ “Robb Stark. How can I help you?” _

 

“We have a bit of a situation.”

 

_ “Oh, what’s that?” _

 

“Margaery has been taken by Ramsay Bolton.”

 

He heard a sigh on the other line.  _ “Took her where?” _

 

“Dreadfort,” Jon answered and Robb repeated to Tyrion. 

 

_ “I can’t have a force to you for about two hours! She’ll be dead or out of the country by then!” _

 

Jon took the phone from Robb. “Get your force here as soon as possible. Robb and I will go in for extraction,” he said before he hung up and left the alley. 

 

“How are we going to get in?” Robb asked, stunned. “The Dreadfort one of the most secured locations on the continent.”

 

Jon held up a white keycard he pulled from one of the guard's pockets. “This is the gate key,” he said as he turned to his brother. “My watch is still tracking her movements towards the Dreadfort. We now have three guns and I have four extra clips. We’re going to get Margaery back but I need you to do exactly what I say, got it?.”

 

Robb nodded, Jon realizing that he was probably feeling a bit out of his element and way over his head. But there was a determination on his face that gave Jon a brief sigh of relief, knowing that there was no one on the planet he could depend on to watch his back better than his own brother.  “Lead the way.”

 

*~*

 

_ We have a problem _ . She could hear the irritation in Daario’s voice on the other end of the phone.

 

“What is it Daario?” She said with a tired, knowing sigh. Why did she ever believe that Jon, Robb,and Margaery could keep themselves safe? 

 

_ Margaery intercepted Ramsay tonight. Naturally, he took her hostage, realized the two men were there watching her, and tried to have them both killed. _

 

“They weren’t, though?”   
  


_No. In fact, your_ ** _boyfriend_** _killed both guards with two shots before the other one even knew what happened...somehow._

 

Daenerys frowned. The White Wolf really was out of retirement it seemed. “What are they doing now?”

 

_ It would appear to that these two...idiots are going to attempt a rescue mission. _

 

She tapped her fingers on her desk nervously. “Follow them and help them if… if it comes to that.”

 

_ Oh, it will. Jon seems capable, I’m not sure how the other survived as long as he has.  _

 

“He kills when he has to. Jon killed for a living.”

 

_ Or sport, it would seem. I’ll let you know what happens. _

 

“Be careful,” she warned.

 

_ Don’t worry. I’ll try to save their lives for you. _

 

“Thank you, Daario.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those that are supportive and are actually giving this fic a chance, thank you! If you’ve already decided that you hate this story, you can see your way out before you leave someone hateful that I don’t have the patience or want to read.
> 
> Also, don’t assume that you have any idea that you know where I’m going with it or that you know the character's motivations. You haven’t been shown even almost everything. So, you’re well within your rights to dislike a character or their reasonings, but I’m within my rights of not listening to you, as well. Yes, that’s salty and rude, but I’d ask you to go back and read the comments on chapters one and two and tell me I don’t have the right to feel that way.


	5. All These Things That I've Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of Rape, implied torture, and gun violence are very big parts of this chapter. If any of those offend you, please don't read.
> 
> Jon and Robb launch a rescue mission for Margaery and come face-to-face with Ramsay. More of the past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of Rape, implied torture, and gun violence are very big parts of this chapter. If any of those offend you, please don't read.
> 
> This chapter was really hard for me to write because there's so much happening. I could see it so clearly in my head, every action played out in my mind I wrote on the page how it worked. However, it was much harder than that once the editing and betaing process began. I thought it made sense and it just didn't in some places.
> 
> However, huge thanks to the lovely FrostbitePanda for the brilliant editing job she did on this. It was bad. Like, really bad. She took her time to go through it with a fine-tooth comb to make it as close as perfect as one of my chapters could get. Nothing like she's able to produce.
> 
> Thanks to the lovely justwandering-neverlost for the gorgeous banners she made for this fic. 
> 
> Thank you to sparkles59 who helped me stop crying and not take things personally!
> 
> And to the other perfect, wonderful Tarts who make up my life (meisie, jaqtkd, and noordinarylines) for continuing to be such an amazing support system.
> 
> I'm not sure when this will be updated again as I am having another back operation a week from today. This one will be more invasive and be a longer recovery time. 
> 
> Also, if you're here to troll, I will ignore you. If I find your comment to be offensive, I will ignore you. If you're here just to crap on characters, even if you think it's a fair criticism, I will ignore you. I will no longer allow you to make me feel bad about this fic, its characters, or how I choose to write them. If you don't like it, go read something else and torment them with what you consider to be a witty back and forth. Also, if you don't like it, don't feel like you have to comment. You can hit the back button just as easily as you can hit the comment button. I'm not writing this to please you. I'm writing this because I love this idea and I really don't give a flying fuck if you do or not. 
> 
> Please see the endnote for this chapter on how to report human trafficking.

 

**POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of Rape, implied torture, and gun violence are very big parts of this chapter. If any of those offend you, please don't read.**

Margaery didn’t make it easy for them to get her inside the keep of the Dreadfort. She’d broken one of the guard’s nose, used the heel of her shoe to drive into his instep, and sent him to the ground with a well-placed knee to his groin. She felt relief course through her for only a moment, until her hair was yanked back and a knife was held to her throat. The man’s breath reeked and she realized, to some horror, that Ramsay’s personal guard, Locke, was holding the knife on her.

 

“Try that with me, I dare you,” he hissed in her ear. Her stomach rolled at the thought of what this monster was probably capable of.

 

Ramsay walked around the car, disgust shining in his eyes as he looked at the man still rolling on the ground from Margaery’s frenzied attack. He turned his bright blue eyes onto her, his face serene, a pleasant smile on his lips. “That was rather rude, my dear. He did _not_ , however, handle you with the care you deserve, so, I suppose it warranted.” He took a deep breath. “Locke, please escort our _guest_ to the kitchens. I’m sure she is ravenous.”

 

Locke pushed her past Ramsay and his voice stopped them both. “And if she tries that again, you have my permission to remove her fingers.”

 

Locke leaned his lips against her ear. “Please try it, Princess.”

 

Margaery knew better than to try against Locke. She knew that one abrupt movement from her and he wouldn’t hesitate to slit her throat. She had to hope that Jon and Robb got the signal and were coming for her. She could hold out that long.

 

“If the White Wolf and the Young Prince managed to survive the guards at the club, have everyone prepared.”

 

*~*

 

“Can you hear me?”

 

“Loud and clear,” Robb’s voice sounded from the earpiece. Jon didn’t remember the last time he’d actually been nervous on a mission, he could feel it clawing at his chest. He could have probably taken the Dreadfort himself, but he knew that Robb would never agree to being left behind. “Ready?”

 

He could hear Robb’s heavy sigh. “Yes. Count it down,” he called.

 

“Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” Jon detonated the first of the explosives below the southern fence. He counted down, again. At one, explosives rocked the eastern wall. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” The incendiary device sounded at the south wall again, Jon’s hope that those who had gone to investigate would be caught by the second explosion. “Two more,” Jon said as they started to move from the shadows towards the gate. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” The western wall, the one they were standing in front of blew apart. A crater in the earth in front of them, the metal fence a gnarled mess of wire. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” And the north wall exploded. Jon could barely make out the sound of men shouting. “Go. Once inside, remember, your back to mine.”

 

Robb being there was making it harder for him to really concentrate. Too many variables, too many things that could go wrong, and... Jon didn’t know what he would do if something happened to him. Despite everything that had happened, Robb was still his brother.

 

Necessity made him push that aside. They were going in for a recovery mission. Margaery and hopefully Sansa.

 

Jon could see men with their guns held up, standing at the ready, and he shot two before they fully reached the hole that had been blown into the ground. Jon took out one of the far cameras as Robb took out one attached to the main building.

 

As they crossed over the fence, Jon and Robb back-to-back. He heard Robb’s gun fire twice and the sound of two bodies hitting the ground. That, at least, made him feel a bit better.

 

Jon saw a man coming around the corner and fired a bullet into his head. Shouting and the sound of rushing men could be heard. “They’re coming. Kill anything that moves,” Jon commanded.

 

Keeping shoulder-to-shoulder, they continued to make their way towards the door of the Dreadfort as Jon shot one in the head as he rounded the corner of the main keep. Another came out of a tower from the left, and Jon turned, feeling instinct take over and fired his weapon as the bullet flew into the man’s head. He didn’t even stop to watch the body hit the ground before he caught another come from the side of the keep and he put a bullet in his head. The thud of his body was echoed by the sound of one hitting the ground behind him and Jon turned his head for only a second to see that his brother had killed one, a clean headshot from his short perusal.  They reached the door of the Dreadfort just as it opened. Jon barely had time to duck the knife that swung at his throat and Robb rolled out of the way, both of them holding their weapons on Locke as they took sanctuary behind a large truck.

 

*~*

 

Margaery spit blood onto the floor at Ramsay’s feet. She was strapped to a table, her dress shredded by her captor’s knives. Locke was standing back, not getting involved in Ramsay’s play. The next slap to her face caused one of her canines to cut into her cheek and her mouth filled with even more blood.

 

“Such a pretty young woman with such a filthy mouth,” Ramsay said, his voice amused. “I like it. Threaten me some more,” he requested as he sat on the bench across from her, his knife twirling between his fingers. His smile appeared serene, even if she could see the evil hidden behind it. He was taunting her, prolonging the torture. He’d only hit her, so far, hadn’t actually used the knife except to remove her dress.

 

 _Robb and Jon will come for me_. “Not if you like it,” she sneered.

 

His expression didn’t change as he lifted the knife and threw it at her, the blade embedding into the wood of the table she was strapped to the left of her hip. “Oops. How careless of me,” he said as he stood and removed the knife from the wood. “You’re so distracting, you made me miss.”

 

He traced the tip of the blade from her throat to circle around her right nipple. “Such a pretty picture you are,” he whispered. She held her head up, refusing to look at him. Jon and Robb would come.

 

They both rocked as an explosion sounded and the shouting of men could be heard. Seconds later, another from the other side of the building. Locke removed his gun from the holster at his ribs and his knife from his belt. A moment passed and another explosion sounded from behind her.

 

She laughed then and Ramsay slowly turned his head to look at her, fury now reflecting in his blue eyes. “You’re all dead,” she taunted.

 

As a third explosion rocked the keep, Ramsay turned to Locke. “Don’t kill them. I want them brought here so they can see my work,” he said as he turned his attention back to Margaery. Her happiness dropped away like a lead balloon, and it was replaced with fear. He stepped closer to her, the tip of his knife slicing a superficial cut into her sternum. She didn’t cry out, not willing to give him the satisfaction. “You’ll be my finest work yet.”

 

*~*

 

They were forced to retreat to the two sides of a truck as Locke had immediately fired on Jon as a man suddenly fired and missed Robb. Jon managed to kill the man aiming at Robb and saw his brother smartly stand behind the tires, blocking his legs from view.

 

“Gentlemen!” Locke’s voice sounded. “If you drop your weapons, I’ll take you to the lady. In fact,” he said, his tone easy as if nothing was abnormal, “Ramsay _insists_ that you join him.” Jon caught a glimpse of Locke in the mirror of the truck and saw him moving to Robb’s side. As his attention was on Locke, Robb turned his gun toward Jon and fired a shot over his shoulder and took out a man sneaking around the truck. He nodded to Robb in thanks, then signaled with his fingers that Locke was coming to his side.

 

“That’s a fine offer,” Robb called as Jon stepped around him to back half of the truck, allowing his brother to distract the other man as he crouched to the ground and removed the knife from its sheath at his side. “I’m sure Margaery misses us terribly.”

 

“She _does_ ,” Locke taunted. “Funny thing about that girl. She can’t quite seem to keep her clothes on.” Jon felt Robb tense behind him. He hoped that Robb could keep his head and not do something brash. “I do find myself in a quandary, though, gents.” Locke’s voice was close and Jon was waiting to see his foot come into view. “I’ve heard stories about the White Wolf. Took down Castle Black all on his own... makes a man curious as to whether legends are real or gossip spread to scare tough old bastards like me.”

 

Jon glanced up at Robb and nodded at him to keep talking. “I’m sure the White Wolf would be happy to put your curiosity to rest.”

 

Robb yelped as he was grabbed from behind and Jon turned to see Locke holding a knife to his brother’s throat. He leaned into Robb’s ear. “Do you think he’d humor me with a fight?”

 

From his right, Jon saw two men approach with lifted rifles, but Jon refused to lower his gun. Locke pushed Robb back to the two newcomers and they swiftly had his brother in a headlock. Locke stood in front of Jon, his arms spread wide. “Come on, drop your gun. I have your lady.” He gestured backward. “I have your brother.”

 

Jon pivoted to the left first and dropped the first guard and then the one on the right. Locke advanced on Jon then, his own gun pointed in Jon’s face. “Come on, White Wolf. Let’s see how true the legends...” Locke tensed at the barrel of one of the dropped rifles being held to the back of his head.

 

“Do you think if we fire at the same time we could make your head into a canoe?” Robb questioned, anger laced through his tone.

 

Locke suddenly bent forward, kicking Robb in the gut and causing him to double over. Jon went for Locke’s face with a knee, barely missing. Locke swung upward at Jon with his knife, missing completely. Jon took a step back, finding his footing.

 

“Come on. Fight me man-to-man,” Locke taunted, dropping his gun to the ground, only holding his knife.

 

Robb finally righted himself and held up his gun.  “Go find Margaery,” Jon snarled as he looked on Locke with no small amount of disdain.

 

“I’m not leaving you. We’ll go find her together,” Robb insisted. He could hear the determination in his brother’s tone. And he knew that he was speaking the truth. He would not leave until they went in together.

 

He didn’t glance at his brother as he kept his eyes on Locke. “He makes a compelling argument,” Jon responded before he raised his gun and shot Locke in the head.

 

Robb lowered his gun and raised an eyebrow, clearly confused and it showed in his statement, “I thought you were going to actually fight him.”

 

Jon led the way toward the open door and scanned the entryway, once more going in shoulder-to-shoulder. “Why would I do that when I could just shoot him?”

 

“You do have a certain reputation to maintain,” Robb said quietly.

 

“And I might have fought him if I cared about my reputation.”

 

Robb and Jon walked back to back through the entryway. Jon took a cursory glance, looking for places where people could hide to shoot at them. There were far too many for his liking, and Robb’s voice was suddenly in his ear,  “Which way?”

 

“Ah, is that the famous brothers I’ve heard so much about?” The voice of Ramsay echoed through the foryar from an intercom system attached to the ceiling. Jon then saw the cameras watching them. “Please, join your lady and me in the kitchen. She’s become rather fond of my knife collection. To your left.”

 

Jon led the way, his gun still stretched out in front of him. As they entered the kitchen, he felt his stomach drop at the scene in front of him.  Margaery was strapped to a wooden table which was standing upright. Behind her stood a wall of monitors showing the still smoking grounds but also the rooms of the house. Her face was wet with tears, but her eyes showed fire, not fear. Her skin was so bloody, Jon couldn’t clearly make out what, exactly had been done to her. Blood dripped down her body and pooled on the floor. _He likes flaying people alive_.

 

Robb stepped forward, his eyes wide and fearful, and Jon threw out an arm to draw him back, damning his brother’s lack of caution. Ramsay’s voice echoed through the room.

 

“This table is my own design. Has the most amazing feature,” Ramsay’s voice was clear, and Jon realized that he was in the room with them, hiding behind Margaery.  Her head was suddenly yanked back. “I have holes all along the back. Easy for me to jab a knife through. So, keep moving forward, Stark, if you want her dead.”

 

Robb stopped and his gun wavered in front of him. Jon’s hand held steady, though, trying to find some way of discerning where Ramsay was behind the table, which side he leaned toward. He could see them, but they couldn’t see him. “Now, gentlemen, I suggest you put your weapons on the ground or... well, I don’t actually have to explain it again do I?”

 

Jon felt the barrel of the gun press against the back of his head and closed his eyes for a second, internally screaming at himself for not maintaining focus. He let out a silent curse, wondering if he could swing around before they could pull the trigger.

 

“Drop ‘em,” the woman said from behind him and Robb turned to see the woman holding the gun at Jon’s head. “Now.”

 

He could see the indecision in Robb’s eyes even as Jon held up his hands. “Ah, Miranda, so glad you could join us,” Ramsay said as he stepped out from behind the table. “Oh, Stark, I can assure you that she’ll kill him rather than hassle herself with your indecision about whether to give up. Best you just comply.”

 

Jon watched Robb. He shook his head, trying to tell Robb not to hesitate, but his brother lowered his weapon. Margaery was bleeding profusely and Jon could see the look of concern on her face as she watched Robb place his gun on the counter beside him.

 

The sound of a gun firing was deafening and the gun being held at the back of his head disappeared. The sound of a body hitting the floor made Jon realize that another person had entered the room and Miranda now lay dead behind him. Another gunshot sounded and Robb turned quickly to shoot Ramsay in the chest, took two steps closer and put two bullets into his head before he even hit the ground. Jon’s attention was on the newcomer, however. Daario had shot the woman. Before Jon could really process what had happened, Daario took off running and Jon gave chase.

 

He ignored his brother’s call. He could only see blood and revenge as he chased after the man. He could find _her_ if he could catch Daario.

 

He pushed his body to run faster than he ever had before, but as he reached the edge of the compound, he lifted his gun to shoot at Daario as he sped off on a motorcycle down the dirt road, making it nearly impossible to see.

 

He clenched his teeth, his heart pounding at his failure. Jon took a deep breath, nearly releasing the primal scream that burst within him. He was taught to suppress such feelings. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead as he stared at the dust that had been kicked up from the motorcycle. He wanted to give chase, to run until his lungs bled and his legs broke, but he tore his eyes away from that fading trail and returned to his brother and things that should be more important than revenge.

 

*~*

 

Robb watched Jon go, indecision warring in his mind until he heard the heavy breathing of Margaery behind him. He let out a frustrated growl at his foolish brother, and tore the knife from Ramsay’s lifeless hand, then cut the straps holding her arms in place. She braced her weight on Robb’s back as he cut her ankles free. He took a deep breath, looking at the cuts, realizing with horror that it was one long slice. His eyes met hers, his heart pounding in his chest that they managed to get to her in time. Relief caused him to embrace her. Even though she whimpered in pain, and he tried to pull away, she held him to her.

 

When she finally released him, she took slow and careful steps away from him and over to Miranda, picked up her gun, checked the sight and spoke to Robb, “Go find Jon.”

 

“I’m not leaving you alone like this,” he was appalled at the mere suggestion that he walk away from her now. Especially given how they found her. No, he intended to stay beside her for a long while, whether she liked it or not. Part of him wanted to smile, knowing she would hate it. Margaery was a strong woman who believed she didn’t need protection. And he would never insult her in suggesting that she did. But he’d just found her strapped to a table. Naked. Bloody. No, he intended to stay with her until they could get her some medical help.

 

Margaery rolled her eyes. “They’re superficial scratches. To send a message and make the two of you nervous.” She checked the cartridge, slid it back into place, then lifted it as Jon appeared in the opening of the kitchen.

  
They’d searched every room, hammering on walls, looking for something hollow. Robb and Margaery were back in the kitchen, looking for something on Ramsay’s body that could lead them to any hint, a remote or a key. While they were at it, Margaery relieved the dead man of his jacket, slinging it over her naked shoulders like a trophy. Jon pulled out every book from the shelves of the study in the adjoining room, convinced that there was a hidden passage somewhere.

 

Robb nearly didn’t hear it, but it sounded like a cough. He looked at Margaery, his eyes narrowing. “Did you hear that?”

 

“All I can hear is Jon,” she said.

 

“Jon,” he said, hoping his brother would hear him through the earpiece. “Stop. I heard something.”

 

The sound of destruction from the adjoining room stopped and he appeared in the kitchen. Robb ran his fingers along the edges of the counters as Margaery pulled out drawers. Jon examined the wall of monitors, looking for a latch, but Robb found the button at the corner of the island.  The floor beside the torture table slid aside and a set of stairs appeared.

 

Robb bit back a moan of irritation, his brother’s insistence that he take the lead and put himself in danger really starting to rake on his nerves. He had to hand it to him, though, for he stepped down the stairs as silent as a cat, gun raised and ready as he surveyed the chamber below, bathed in flickering, orange light. Jon looked back up to them from below, nodding the 'all clear'."

Robb nearly vomited to see rows of cells with girls of varying ages and races. All filthy, wearing shapeless shifts that were as dirty as their faces. He fought the urge to go back upstairs and empty his gun into Ramsay’s dead body. Margaery pushed past the two of them and over to an electronic control panel on the wall, seemingly to control the cells. The girls began crying, realizing they were being freed.

 

“Sansa?” Robb called and moved down the row, trying not to stare too long into haunted and horrified eyes.

 

“R-Robb?”

 

He nearly fell to his knees as he heard her voice. The doors to the cells opened and the girls began running out, Margaery ushering them up the stairs. He hoped she would take some of the sheets they’d found in the spare rooms to help cover them up, but even that was a fleeting thought as bright blue eyes stared at him. His long-lost sister stumbled toward him and fell into his arms. “Sansa,” he hissed into her ear.

 

She stiffened suddenly and he saw her looking behind him and knew she had seen Jon. She began crying harder as Jon stepped closer to her and hesitated to hug her. Robb felt a piece of him break as Jon closed the distance and Sansa hugged him as well. “Jon,” she cried. The three of them stood together for a few moments, family reunited. He couldn’t stop the tears of relief and joy, nor did he want to. Robb thought his heart had actually stopped when he saw her, but now it raced, only allowing himself to feel happiness to have her, not the anger and disgust that threatened to overtake him. His sister was with them, where she belonged, and they would protect her.

 

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here,” Robb ushered her toward the exit. Margaery had come back down the stairs and met them, a look of concern on her face. She took a deep breath and gave Sansa a smile, but it faded as she looked at Jon and Robb. “What?”

 

“There’s something you need to see.”

 

*~*

 

As they exited the house, Sansa clinging to Robb as he helped her walk, Jon was stunned to see ambulances, nurses, and doctors already there and tending to the girls. One of the nurses stepped forward to Margaery and Sansa. “Come, we’ll tend to you.”

 

Robb didn’t release Sansa, nor did she go. “What is this?”

 

“Are you Robb Stark?” the nurse with mousy brown hair asked.

 

He nodded and Jon watched her hand over an envelope and he took it. He handed it to Margaery and she took a deep breath and read the letter out loud.

 

_Robb,_

 

_If you’re receiving this, then my team is there to help those you liberated. Allow them to care for your sister. They’re the best at what they do and are prepared to help the girls both physically, and down the road, psychologically. I would give you my word, but none of you would take that as anything more than wind. They are my team. My Irri._

 

_Daenerys_

 

Jon looked at the ground, remembering all too well the story she’d told him all those months ago, the helplessness and sadness he’d felt was still all too real. He looked up at the nurse and around at the others that were tending to the girls. Cuts being cleaned and tended, blankets and socks were given to each girl. There wasn’t a male doctor in the group and he took a deep breath and looked at Robb and Sansa. “They’re here to help you.”

 

“I don’t want t-to leave, Robb or you.”

 

The woman in front of them shook her head. “You won’t have to. All of you are welcome to come with us.” She turned her attention to Margaery. “We can treat you, too.”

 

“I’m fine. They’re superficial,” she muttered.

 

“They’re still bleeding,” the nurse urged. “You can keep your weapons.”

 

Jon nodded at Sansa and Robb and they followed her. He looked over his shoulder at Margaery, still lagging behind. “You too.”

 

“Why do you trust them? What do you know?” Margaery asked, suspicious.

 

“Irri,” he said as he escorted Margaery toward one of the emergency vehicles. “I know what it means.”

 

“Enlighten me.”

 

“Enlighten us both,” Robb said as he turned after Sansa was seated, given a blanket, and socks.

 

Jon licked his suddenly dry lips, remembering the conversation they’d had after Daenerys had a nightmare one night. He still remembered all too clearly how she’d thrashed beside him, how she trembled when she’d finally awoken, and cried in relief to realize she’d only been dreaming.

 

_She hadn’t let him hold her at first, pushing him away. She sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. He had moved to kneel in front of her on the floor. He didn’t touch her again, only braced a hand on the bed beside her as he felt helpless to watch her so distraught._

 

_“Hey... it was just a dream...”_

 

_She shook her head, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “No. It was a memory,” she whispered. “The...worst...” They were both silent and she kept her head lowered, her eyes closed. She took deep breaths through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. She was still shaking. He’d never seen Daenerys so broken -- she was better able to control her emotions than he was. “I-I was...sold... at fourteen to the leader of the Dothraki gang in Essos.” She paused, her voice shaking. “Heard of them?”_

 

_He had. They were well-known killers. If they went into a town, nothing was safe, not it’s possessions or it’s people. “Yes,” he whispered his answer._

 

 _“I was sold like a broodmare. Chained and betrayed.” She said as she looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. But instead of sadness, her words held a fierceness he hadn’t seen in her before. “Raped and defiled.” She shook her head. “My purchaser...the man called himself my_ husband _...raped me every day for months. The men are all monsters. Savages. He was the only thing keeping them from taking me for themselves. He told me that every day. I should be_ thankful _to him...”_

 

_The man better hope he was dead. Jon would see to it that he died in the most painful way he could imagine, and given his former line of work, he could imagine a lot of horrible things. “How...how did you escape?” he asked to distract himself from the sudden, dizzying thirst for violence that sang in his heart._

 

_She put her hands in her lap. “The wife of one of his most loyal guards... Irri. She was the one who always tended to my wounds.” Daenerys’s face crumbled. “She must have felt sorry for me, because, after a while, she began getting to know me. She was the one who realized I was...I was pregnant.” That news nearly sent him to the ground. “She sought to protect me. Every beating, every rape, she was sent in to tend to me. She told her husband that I was carrying...that I was pregnant. The beatings stopped at least,” she said as she wiped her face again and took a long pause._

 

_“You...you don’t have to tell me, Daenerys.”_

 

_She looked up at him, her brow knit in concern. “No, you need to know.” But even as she said it, Jon didn’t believe she really wanted to tell him. She still didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes on her hands, but he noticed how she trembled. She opened her mouth to speak several times, but nothing came out, until, after another deep breath, she began to speak once more, her voice very soft, “My husband died in a bar fight six months into my pregnancy. Irri escaped with me.” She took a deep breath. “We managed to get into another town, far away from the Dothraki. Irri stayed by my side, helping me with my pregnancy. I met some people from Braavos, where my brother and I once lived. I knew the girl in their family. Doreah. We played together when we were little.”_

 

_Daenerys shook her head as a fresh onslaught of tears poured down her face. “She...betrayed us. She was so jealous of Irri’s relationship with me, especially after... after my miscarriage,” she gasped, one of her hands coming to her heart, and finally looked at him. The pain in her eyes took his breath away. “All I had was Irri.” She swallowed thickly. “And Doreah contacted Irri’s husband. She... she said it was because she could have me all to herself...”_

 

_Her chin trembled as she licked her dry lips. Jon stood then, hoping to busy himself, to give her a moment to collect her thoughts as he tried to do the same. He poured her a glass of water and walked back to her and resumed his position in front of her as he handed it to her. She drank it down, her hands shaking. “The Dothraki invaded Braavos...burning everything. Looking for Irri and I. Doreah told me that Irri was already on the boat and had gone to fetch some food. I sent Doreah to get her, that I needed Irri. And she left.” She shook her head. “That’s... that’s when I met Jorah. Doreah came back with a knife and attacked me. She told me that Irri was dead...” Jon took her hand then, unable to resist any longer, and she squeezed it gratefully. “She’d... strangled her... Jorah heard me screaming and came to investigate. He pulled Doreah off of me and she landed on her knife...”_

 

_Silence hung in the air as she squeezed his fingers. He turned her palm over and traced the lines there for a long moment before he could find his voice. "I wish there was something I could say...”_

 

_“You don’t have to say anything. You listened,” she said softly. “Sometimes...sometimes I feel like that’s all we really need.”_

 

Jon ran a hand over his head and gripped the back of his neck as he remembered one of the most difficult nights of his life. Robb and Margaery were still waiting for an explanation and he knew he had to give one, though, he felt some sort of inexplicable reluctance at revealing such a painful and personal memory. The memory of it, her distress and pain still caused an ache in his own chest. He doubted a lot about their relationship, but not that story. “Irri... was her caretaker after... she was severely...”

 

Margaery nodded in the light of his stammering, seemingly coming to understand with very little explanation. She took a deep breath, eyes scanning the assembled crew. “They’re all female,” she remarked. Robb looked around, Jon watching his brother’s face as comprehension flared in his eyes.

 

Jon watched the nurse hand Sansa a pair of red socks and he shook his head. “Why give them socks?”

 

The nurse turned to Jon and smiled. “Socks are a small comfort we can immediately offer.”

 

“So, what happens after you tend to them? Reunite them with their families?”

 

She shook her head. “Not immediately. We assess their mental stability and make sure the appropriate care is established in their lives. That is, in the cases where they weren’t sold by their own families,” she said softly.

 

Robb shook his head, disgusted. “Sold by their own families?”

 

Jon folded his arms over his chest and looked at the ground. “Not everyone is as fortunate as we are. Sansa... will have a large support system.”

 

The nurse nodded. “Some of these girls won’t have that at all. For them, we have safe houses where they will be cared for.”

 

Sansa smiled gratefully as the woman handed her a bottle of juice. “What’s your name?”

 

The nurse smiled at her. “Irri. We’re all Irri.”

 

*~*

 

_The brother nearly got them all killed._

 

Daenerys closed her eyes, staring out at her garden as she shifted the phone to her other ear. “But they’re all alive. Missy told me the team had arrived and the girls were being seen to.”

 

_I didn’t get to stick around for that part. After I saved Snow’s life, he chased after me. Hadad to make a hasty exit. I’d just watched him and his brother take out an entire compound. Hate to think what my fate would have been had he caught up to me._

 

“I hate the thought, as well.”

 

 _It’s with all that in mind that I urge you to simply tell them what you need from them. If you don’t, Jon Snow will find you and he will kill you. I have no doubts in my mind. And if you won’t tell them, at least let_ me _kill him._

 

“No!” She turned from looking out at the garden, her fist clenched at her side, her nails digging into the skin of her hand. “Daario, I’ll bring you back and send Jorah if you can’t handle this.”

 

_I can handle it. But are you willing to sacrifice all of us because you are... attached to him?_

 

She leaned back against the doors and answered him quickly, though her heart ached. “No.” She decided to appeal to his practical nature. “You saw him in action. Are you telling me we won’t need him for the final phase?”

 

He was quiet for a moment and she knew that he was actually considering it, putting aside his own ego to truly contemplate the answer. _No. We’ll need him. It’s for the best if you can sway him into your mission. Which would have been easier if you hadn’t bedded his brother._

 

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need the running commentary on who I have in my bed.”

 

_Right. So, do you still want me following them?_

 

“Yes. Keep watch, Daario.” Missandei entered the room then and Daenerys took a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

_Nice to know you still care, Your Grace._

 

She huffed out a breath at the endearment. He knew well that it annoyed her to no end. “Stay alive.”

 

_Nine lives._

 

Daenerys hit end on her phone and Missandei gave her a smile. “I take it the team has been asked about their interactions with Stark, Tyrell, and Snow?”

 

She nodded. “As you thought, they were reluctant to let their sister be seen by the staff. But Gilly gave them the letter and it _was_ Jon who told the others to let her be tended.”

 

She sat in the chair behind her desk. “How much do Robb and Margaery know about me now?”

 

“Gilly said he didn’t give a lot of details. He told them who Irri was, though,” Missandei said softly. “Seems he’s not divulging everything.”

 

“I wonder why?” she muttered.

 

Missandei pursed her lips together and her words offered little comfort to Daenerys. “Perhaps he still loves you.”

 

Daenerys felt tears prick her eyes and scoffed, her mouth going dry and her hands shaking. Jon couldn’t possibly still love her. Not after what she did. The pain of it still felt so fresh. “More like he detested the memory so much he could barely stomach it.” She shook her head, not willing to hope that Jon could feel anything more for her than hatred. She wasn’t a person who cried, usually. She was so careful to keep her emotions in check in any situation. But that night... she’d been caught off guard by the dream, had revealed something very real and true to the man she cared for, expecting judgment.

 

There was none. That’s not who Jon was, and that night had solidified in her mind that he was a man she could trust, even if she was a woman he couldn’t.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNITED STATES  
> 1 (888) 373-7888  
> National Human Trafficking Resource Center  
> http://humantraffickinghotline.org/report-trafficking


	6. Somebody That I Used To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Daenerys! Get out of there. Jorah! Grey! Jon’s here!_
> 
>  
> 
> Daenerys took a deep breath and only tilted her head as Missandei’s voice panicked in her ear. She sipped at her champagne as she realized that to turn and flee would cause unnecessary attention. He stopped in front of her and she was haunted by the look on his face. Rage mixed with disappointment.
> 
> “Daenerys,” he growled. “How ‘bout a dance?”
> 
> She examined him closely for a brief moment and sighed. “Are you planning to kill me in a room full of people, Jon Snow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks for Meisie stepping in for FrostbitePanda this chapter and betaing for me! She did a great job, in my opinion!
> 
> Another huge thanks to justwanderingneverlost for the gorgeous mood board she made me for this chapter. She's the best!
> 
> And endless thanks to the Tarts for cheering me on to write this fic. I did finally get all of my outline for this fic typed out the other day and it's going to be one helluva ride and I hope those of you still here will stick around for it. This fic holds a special place in my heart even though I know it is sometimes loathed by parts of the community. I still maintain that if you don't like this story, why are you still reading it 6 chapters in?
> 
> The title for this chapter comes from the Goyte song "Somebody That I Used To Know".

 

Two weeks had passed since they took down the Dreadfort and had returned to Winterfell with Sansa. The women from Daenerys’s team had done everything they said they were going to do, right down to making sure that Sansa had the psychological help she needed for her traumatic experiences. 

 

Jon was more than relieved to have found Sansa. He was equally relieved that Margaery and Robb had come out of the incident alive. She was still healing but the superficial cuts that Ramsay had laid across her body had mostly disappeared. But even as grateful as he was that the outcome was no worse, his mind continued to focus on the fact that Daario had shown up and saved their lives and left without a trace. He knew enough about Daenerys’s organization to know that her people didn’t do anything without her approval, which meant Daario was following them on her orders.

 

He sat at the desk in his room as his computer continued to scan cameras around the world for her. Jon had also added pictures of Daario, Missandei, and Jorah into the face recognition search. He was sure they would get a hit on one of them, at least, he hoped. He wondered if his cell was still being followed by Daario. Could they possibly set a trap for him, if so?

 

Robb appeared in the open doorway of his bedroom and frowned. “Phone call.”

 

Jon turned his attention to his brother. “What?”

 

“Tyrion,” he said as he gestured to the other room and disappeared back into the main living quarters. Jon rose to his feet and joined them where Margaery had her cell phone on speaker. “Go ahead,” Robb prompted.

 

“While I am relieved that you all managed to find your sister and erase the human shitstain that was Ramsay Bolton, I am severely missing my three best agents.” There was a pause and Jon wasn’t sure if he was waiting for them to apologize or not. “That being said,” he continued when they didn’t speak, “I do have a mission that I could use your assistance with. All three of you.”

 

“We’re still looking for Daenerys,” Jon replied.

 

“And you’ll be able to continue looking for Daenerys, however, I do require the three of you for your actual job.”

 

Jon folded his arms over his chest, not wanting to be distracted from the search, but Robb took the choice out of his hands. “What’s the job, Tyrion?”

 

“It appears we have a religious zealot that has taken over the Stormlands. He and the priestess are burning people alive as sacrifices to their god. His name is Stannis Baratheon and the deceitful woman with him, the priestess, is known only as Melisandre.” Jon had no interest in going to the Stormlands. Not when the last place they saw Daenerys was in the city they were currently in, but the thought of people being burned alive, innocent people, made his stomach turn. “They’re dangerous and are racking up the number of lives they’re taking.”

 

“How many so far?” Margaery questioned.

 

“Our source says they’ve managed over a hundred.”

 

“A hundred people?” Robb asked, the look on his face as disgusted as Jon felt. 

 

“Unfortunately. His wife’s family are included in that. Stannis is holding a party at his ancestral home, Storm’s End, at the end of the week. I’ve managed to procure an invitation for the three of you. Eliminate Stannis and his priestess. I’ll send each of you all that we have on the two of them. Stay safe.”

 

The line went dead and Jon frowned. “What about our search for Daenerys?”

 

Margaery picked her phone up from the coffee table as it buzzed with the file Tyrion had sent. She turned her attention to Jon instead of opening it. “Your computer is still scanning, right?”

 

“Yes. But it will stop when we get on a plane.”

 

“We’ll take my family’s private plane,” she declared. “Just for ease of travel and comfort.”

 

“I don’t give a fuck about traveling,” Jon spat. “Do the two of you remember that Daario followed us? Which means he’s probably still following us, which also means she’s still a step ahead.”

 

Robb looked at his brother with a frown. “You mean have I forgotten that if he  _ hadn’t  _ interfered, we’d probably all be dead?” He questioned, unable to hide his own anger. “No, Jon, I haven’t forgotten. But we signed on to do  _ this  _ job and look for Daenerys in the background. That is always ongoing.” He stood and faced his brother down, his tone businesslike. “This man is apparently killing a lot of people. He needs to be stopped and if we're going to continue on this hunt together that means we need to work together, too.”

 

He stalked back to his room and Margaery told his retreating figure, “We leave at six.”

 

Jon slammed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. His laptop suddenly beeped, which meant he got a hit. He moved over to the laptop and found the camera footage of Daenerys along with Missandei, Jorah, and Grey Worm. He read over the location and sat back in his chair to see the location.  _ Tarth. Stormlands _ . He did a quick search and saw that Tarth was an island off the coast. He could hear Margaery and Robb in the next room, talking about their upcoming mission. His entire body seemed to tingle at the thought of being able to get his hands on Daenerys.

 

He stared at the picture of her, feeling an ache in his chest that he immediately pushed down and tried to ignore. She betrayed him. Even if she had used the others, he was the one she betrayed. He thought they were in a relationship, something heading toward a true future together and she fucked two people while they were involved. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to control the rage that threatened to consume him. 

 

He took a deep breath to steady his mind. He wanted to feel nothing but anger and hatred, but even as he looked at the picture of her on the screen he felt it wavering. He remembered how they met, how they had spent hours at a cafe that day, talking, laughing, showing her the pictures on his camera of the architecture. That she only allowed him to keep one from their time at the fountain but agreed to let him take more at a later date. He recalled how she had smelled of jasmine and her infectious laugh. It had a habit of chasing away his near-perpetual sour mood. He closed his eyes for just a moment, nearly letting the bubble of joy that had always come at thoughts of her take him over. 

 

He thought on other times they were together. They would see sights when they could, but much of their time was spent in various prone positions in their hotel rooms and then eating at restaurants. They both talked about their travels, finding it hard to believe that she spent a majority of her life in Essos, and she had remained elusive about the topic until her nightmare. It all changed then. They both started sharing more, leaning on one another, truly building something. He thought of the last day he had seen her, how she had stepped into the shower with him, tears in her eyes, and he’d let it go in favor of making love to her. Hoping to soothe her.  

 

It felt like the wind had been physically knocked from his chest as he’d arrived the next morning to find out that it had all been a lie. Tricked. Duped. Betrayed. Crushed. Heartbroken. Angry.

 

Jon stood and began packing his suitcase. He would go to the Stormlands with Margaery and Robb, but he would slip off and find her, and he would be the one to kill her and free himself of the pain.

 

*~*

 

Margaery sat across from Robb on the plane, a bottle of champagne opened beside her. She held a flute full of the bubbling liquid, her second. Robb examined her, her arms still bandaged from what Ramsay had done to her. She let on like it didn’t affect her, that it was just part of the job, but the truth was he could see it when the ordeal would take over her mind. She would grow quiet, the smirky-smile he was used to would disappear, and her eyes grew distant. He knew she wasn’t sleeping as well, but he didn’t want to bring it up to her.

 

She suddenly turned her gaze to him and he gave her a slight smile. “That’s quite a serious expression you have on your face,” he said to her, finally.

 

“Thinking about the people in the Stormlands. No one deserves that.”

 

“Maybe he and his  _ priestess _ deserve it,” Robb replied, looking down at his phone in his hands. He’d been reading up on their two perpetrators. Stannis hadn’t always been a religious fanatic, but after his brother had died, he’d seemingly lost his mind. His wife converted with him. Stannis also had a daughter, a ten-year-old by the name of Shireen. He hoped the girl was being taken care of properly. He couldn’t imagine what a hellish existence it would be to have religious fanatics as parents. People could blur the lines all too easily and truly lose their way even when they had gone into it looking for peace and a higher purpose.

 

Margaery moved to sit beside Robb and looked down at his phone. “He seemed a little too ready to leave, didn’t he?”

 

He glanced over at her and frowned. “I noticed that, too,” he said as he looked toward the back of the plane where Jon had his laptop out and his headphones on. “Think he found her?”

 

She nodded and tilted her head. “I think she’s in the Stormlands,” she whispered. “Why else would he be so willing to go?” Robb didn’t glance at his brother but kept his head close to Margaery’s as they both pretended to read the screen. “Do we call him out on it?”

 

Robb took a deep breath and ran a hand through his auburn hair. “I suppose we have to, or he could get all of us killed.”

 

“Now?”

 

Robb gave that some thought and came to the conclusion that Jon already held some anger and resentment toward both of them in regards to Daenerys in the first place. He didn’t think a plane was a good place for a confrontation with an irate Jon. He’d seen his brother in action, knew his ability to plan and didn’t want that loose against them in such a confined space.

 

“No. I don’t think he would hurt us, but if mad enough...”

 

“The hotel, then?”

 

He nodded. “Maybe give him some liquor. You know, slow his reflexes a little.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “You will eventually have to talk to one another about this. You are brothers...”

 

“I know. I don’t want things to be like this between us,” he confessed. He shook his head and closed his phone and tucked it into his pocket. He felt like Jon should at least respect the fact that Robb had no idea that they were together. “But I can’t go back and...change things.”

 

“Would you? If you could, would you not do it all over again? Because this is my perspective. She knew what she was doing. She came after the both of us while he thought they were in a relationship,” she whispered, but it did not hide the anger in her voice. “Would you really want your brother involved with a woman who could do that to him?”

 

Robb leaned his head back and rubbed a hand over his face anxiously. “No. I wouldn’t do it again.” He could see the disapproving look on her face and tilted his head. “I hate that I hurt my brother. I hate it more than I hate her. Because no matter what happens now, the relationship I had with him is gone. I lost my brother.” He shook his head. “It’s selfish but I would rather have my relationship with him back.”

 

Her expression softened. She put a hand on his shoulder, tilting her head at him. “You’re a good brother. Jon will remember that.”

 

“Before or after he kills me?”

 

She smiled and chuckled. “Let’s hope it’s before.”

 

*~*

 

Robb and Margaery were getting set up in their rooms. Meanwhile, Jon hadn’t removed anything from his suitcase but instead concentrated on his laptop, scanning all the cameras localized to the Stormlands, hoping to get a hit. His mind was focused solely on finding her. Margaery and Robb were too easily distracted and he felt their hearts weren’t actually in the hunt for Daenerys. 

 

He started to wonder if it was a glitch. After over an hour of scanning, he thought maybe it had just been someone that looked like her. He stood and moved away from his computer, contemplating having a stiff drink. But a ding sounded from his laptop followed by another and another. His heart raced in his chest, every muscle in his body flaring with the need for action. 

 

They were coming from a hotel in Tarth. It was her, Jorah following close behind her as the giveaway. She was attending a party, smiling, as if nothing had happened. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get her alone; to kill her in a crowded room like that would be no end of trouble. But he could get close enough to get a tracker on her. 

 

He unzipped the hanging bag with his tux and put it on quickly, pulled his unruly hair back into a bun, tucked his gun into its holster at his ribs and knife up the sleeve of his shirt. He checked the common room for Robb and Margaery but found neither of them. He snuck out of his room and closed the door behind him quietly. The main door to their suite made a whoosh as he pulled it closed and he hoped neither of them realized he was leaving. They didn’t need to know what he was doing. They would try to stop him.

 

He took a ferry to the island of Tarth. The lights of the city could be seen from the harbor. He was there in less than half an hour. He found the hotel and entered the party which appeared to be a wedding reception. He felt his stomach flipping at the thought of actually seeing her face to face. He took a flute of champagne from a passing tray and drank it down quickly. He settled it on a table, looking for her familiar white blonde hair and stopped when he saw her, standing at the edge of the dance floor in a flowing purple gown. Part of him was relieved to see her, realizing how much he had missed her and, though he hated himself, still loved her.

 

He pushed aside those emotions and focused on his anger, hurt, and betrayal, all at her hands. She had taken his brother as a lover. She had broken his heart, a heart that wasn’t easily given over, and how he resented her for that, more so than cheating. He balled up his fists at his side, slipping the tracking device in his hand. He took a deep breath and with purpose and cold fury he stalked toward her.

 

*~*

 

Daenerys sipped her champagne and walked around the party, always aware that Jorah and Grey Worm were ready at a moment’s notice to extract her. She was waiting, patiently, for Brienne to appear, however, the purposeful stride of a dark-haired man in a tuxedo caused her heart to stop. His hair was pulled back into a severe bun, but she would recognize those dark eyes and fluid walk anywhere.

 

_ Daenerys! Get out of there. Jorah! Grey! Jon’s here! _

 

Daenerys took a deep breath and only tilted her head as Missandei’s voice panicked in her ear. She sipped at her champagne as she realized that to turn and flee would cause unnecessary attention. He stopped in front of her and she was haunted by the look on his face. Rage mixed with disappointment.

 

“Daenerys,” he growled. “How ‘bout a dance?”

 

She examined him closely for a brief moment and sighed. “Are you planning to kill me in a room full of people, Jon Snow?”

 

He shook his head and grasped her by the elbow. She knew to everyone else it looked gentle, but his fingers were in the meat of her arm and were squeezing enough that she would have to wrench her arm free if she didn’t follow. “I will kill you. But not here and not now. We’re going to talk while we dance.”

 

“You don’t dance.”

 

“I’m making an exception,” he said as he led her to the dance floor and pulled her in, letting go of her elbow. She flexed her fingers as she could feel the blood circulating back into the digits. He encircled her in his arms and kept his lips close to her ear, making her shiver despite herself. “I suppose you think you’re rather clever.”

 

“More than some.”

 

“Is everything a game?” His voice was so cold and bitter it caused her real pain.

 

She turned her head slightly, her lips grazing his jaw. “You always liked my games.”

 

“Stop trying to work me. What are you up to? Why did you help us?”

 

She smoothed her hand over his heart and peered up at him to find his eyes nearly black. The heated look on his face let her know that she needed to tread carefully or all of this could explode into violence. She could sense the coiled tension in his body and her sense of self-preservation nagged at her, but damn it felt good to be in his arms again, no matter how dangerous it was. “I don’t want anyone to die that doesn’t have to.”

 

“And who has to?”

 

“Monsters. Like Ramsay,” she said quietly as she looked up at him. 

 

“And you’re using us to do your dirty work?”

 

She shook her head. “If only it were that easy, Jon Snow.”

 

“Stop. Playing. Games,” he demanded. “What do you want from us?”

 

She looked around and could see Grey and Jorah at the edges of the dancefloor. 

 

_ Say the word, Daenerys, and they’ll get you out of there. _ Missandei’s voice was calm, but she knew the woman well enough to know she was probably panicking.

 

Daenerys didn’t answer him, instead, she looked around the room. “Are Robb and Margaery here?” She looked up at him and then smiled at the sheepish look that crossed his face for only a moment before it dissolved into anger. “Oh, they have no idea you’ve done this, do they?” She chuckled. “I always did like your spontaneity. It’s a rather attractive quality. But then, you have so many of those.”

 

“Everything that comes out of your mouth is poison. Do you even know what the truth is anymore?”

 

“Do you? I know all about you, now. You were the best that your little agency had. Possibly the best in the world.  _ The White Wolf _ . A true killer.” She paused and let the words sink in, hoping to remind him that he wasn’t as innocent as he acted. “You have impeccable aim. Anyone you set your sights on was dead. But,” she said as she ran a finger over the lapel of his jacket, “they made you set your sights on someone you didn’t feel deserved it. In the end, you put ole Mance Rayder out of his misery and managed to kill over two hundred people in Castle Black all on your own.” She allowed her accusations to hang between them. She’d done her homework this time. He thought of her as a villain, and perhaps in her actions toward him, she was. Her heart still ached for the destruction she caused to their relationship. But he wasn’t innocent. He destroyed lives just as she had.

 

“You stopped doing field work because killing people lost its appeal and you became the best at gathering information on people.” She trailed her finger up his chest and to the pulse in his neck, a point she knew to be especially sensitive. He tried to pull away from her touch, but then he’d have to release her and instead his grip on her tightened. “Yet, you didn’t know who I was.”

 

“I knew enough. I thought I did,” he admitted, his voice thick. She hoped that somewhere inside him he still loved her.

 

She heaved a sigh, turning her gaze away from him and stared at his kissable lips, held in a hard line. “Or, were you like me? When you found something you didn’t like, you ignored it because of how you felt?” He didn’t confirm or deny anything and instead moved his fingers to trace over her earring, grazing the spot beneath her ear that caused her to tremble. She continued speaking as if nothing was happening, though she felt the weight on her earlobe change.   _ Clever, my love _ . “When I realized you were an agent, a spy like me, I had them stop looking. I knew you weren't out to kill me. You had ample opportunity to do so. I was willing to just let it be.” She paused for a moment and leaned her head against his, her lips beside his ear, feeling her emotions dancing so close to the surface as she admitted the truth to him. “I didn’t know Robb was your brother until the day before I left.”

 

He was quiet as they continued to sway to the music and for a moment, she could pretend that it was just the two of them and that he didn’t hate her. “Even if Robb wasn’t my brother, you took two lovers while we were together. While I thought we were building a life together...”

 

“What life? We lived in hotels and hardly saw one another.” She looked up at him sadly, “When we did, it was wonderful. A perfect escape from the hell we both saw every day. But that’s all it could be. An escape. Neither of us was honest.”

 

“You’re not being honest now.”

 

She leaned back and looked him in the eye. “Fine. Ask me what you want to know. You have two minutes before Jorah and Grey clear this room to get me out,” she asserted.

 

“Who is it you’re trying to take down?”

 

“Ultimately? Cersei Lannister.”

 

“Why?”

 

“That will take longer than two minutes,” she said and his eyes narrowed in response. “I will tell you that what you saw with Sansa is a worldwide problem. And Cersei is profiting from it. Using people like Ramsay and others to prop up her trafficking empire. I don’t have the force that you, Robb, and Margaery have access to. My force is more geared towards humanitarian aid-”

 

He sighed. “Why not just ask us for help?”

 

“Because you’re all paid killers. I can’t pay you what you want. But, if I make you my enemy...”

 

“Then we chase you.”

 

She nodded. “It sounds daft and foolish. I know. But I care more about what happens to other people than I do about myself. I’ll put myself in danger in order to make sure that another little girl isn’t sold.”

 

“Because that’s what happened to you?”

 

She took a deep breath and pulled back from him, feeling as if he had slapped her. She hadn’t expected him to use her past as a weapon against her. “Times up,” she said and Grey appeared behind him and kept a gun at his back. “It was good to see you, Jon Snow.”

 

Jorah took her by the elbow, but Jon’s voice stopped her. “Dany,” he said softly and she turned at the term of endearment. “I’m coming for you.”

 

She gave him a watery smile. “I look forward to being chased,” she said before Jorah escorted her out. 

 

*~*

 

Jon ran through the alley and kicked the door in to the small room, pointing his gun around. He realized it was a home and a family of seven were sitting at their dining room table, all staring at him but not in surprise. He scanned the room and nearly howled at seeing her dress, shoes, and jewelry all sitting in the corner.

 

“Where’s the woman that was wearing this?” he asked and the little girl put her finger to her lips and pulled him with her into another room. She then removed an envelope and handed it to him before she went back to her family. 

 

_ Chase me, Jon Snow. Catch me if you can. _

 

He put his gun back in its holster and left.

 

*~*

 

When he entered the suite, Margaery and Robb were both seated on the sofa, the bottle of bourbon sitting open in front of them. Neither looked at him as he entered and he knew that he was going to get a lecture. 

 

“Where’ve you been?” Robb asked as he swirled his drink in his glass.

 

“Out.”

 

Margaery looked up at him then and handed him the box sitting between her and Robb. “This came for you while you were  _ out _ ,” she said. “Though, it was addressed to Robb and me.” He opened the box to see the tracker he’d put on Daenerys in the box. It had been smashed. “Those are rather expensive,” she said as she stood and moved to look out the window.

 

“What did you do?” Robb asked finally and Jon dropped the box into the chair and removed his coat before undoing his tie. He walked into his room and Robb followed him. “You didn’t answer me, brother.”

 

“I got a hit on her.”

 

“Did you think, at any point, to include your partners in on this chase?” Margaery asked, her hands on her hips, clearly ready for a fight.

 

Jon picked up the lamp on the table beside him and threw it against the wall in a flare of frustration, the china base smashing to fragments. Neither Robb nor Margaery reacted to the outburst. Instead, she leaned against the doorframe as his brother stood at the foot of the bed and watched as he crouched close to the floor, his hands balled into fists in front of him. “She was in my arms and I didn’t kill her,” he said, shaking his head.

 

“No? What did you do?” Margaery asked.

 

“Questioned her.”

 

“Looked to us as if you were dancing,” she responded and Jon looked up at her guiltily. 

 

“You followed me?”

 

She shook her head. “I didn’t know you had left your room. Not until Tyrion called us and asked what you were doing with Daenerys at a party. Naturally, we were confused. He told us to turn on our telly and we could see the camera feed. Intense though it looked, you did seem rather comfortable with her in your arms.”

 

Jon sat on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands. “What exactly was your plan?” Robb asked. 

 

He wished they would scream at him. He could handle that better than their calm demeanor. “Put a tracker on her, hunt her down, and kill her.”

 

“Foolproof,” Margaery deadpanned. 

 

“I will not listen to a fucking lecture from the two of you.”

 

Robb chuckled. “Oh? See, I thought we were a team. We agreed to work together. To hunt her  _ together _ . Now, Margaery and I seem to find that rather easy...”

 

“Of course you do. You’ve been eyeing each other for weeks! Fuck already. Make things less complicated.”

 

Robb shook his head. “If anything that usually makes it more complicated. However, since you’ve pulled this little stunt and clued her in that we’re always looking for her...I suppose we’ll have to devise a new plan.”

 

He nodded. “Right. Our new plan is that we’re no longer working together.” Robb straightened and put his glass on the dresser. Jon shook his head. “I don’t need or want your help.”

 

“Oh, brother, you have proven today that you desperately need our help. What would have happened if Grey or Jorah decided that allowing you that close to her was not worth it and killed you?”

 

“In the middle of a ballroom?”

 

Margaery shrugged. “She would have been safe and you wouldn’t be able to go after her. You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

 

“It’s got nothing to do with luck. She wants us to chase her.”

 

“You find out why?” Robb asked with a tilt of his head, his brow pinched as he clearly thought about the implication.

 

“She’s seeking to topple an empire.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Cersei Lannister.”

 

Margaery narrowed her eyes at Jon. “Tyrion’s sister? Why?”

 

“You realize we’re doing her dirty work? We’re killing and taking the heads of these organizations for organized crime. And when we’re done, she moves in with her humanitarian aid and takes care of people. We’re still being used as pawns.”

 

“Ramsay Bolton deserved to die,” Margaery spat, her normally calm demeanor breaking. “I told you in the beginning if it weren’t for us being played, we’d probably side with her. She told us where to find Sansa. If you’re so dead set on killing her, then you’ll leave me out of it. Perhaps working as a group is a bad idea if you make such stupid decisions.”

 

Robb took a deep breath. “Calm down, both of you. If we’re at odds, she wins.”

 

“No. She wants us working together. She wants us to chase her. She wants us to do all of this for her.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, thinking about the implications of everything she had said. She didn’t know they were brothers, and that should have brought him more peace. He glanced at the other two people in the room, feeling defeated but still angry. It still seemed like she thought so little about what they had that taking two people into her bed, for her mission even, hardly mattered to her. “I’m still going to find her. That’s the mission that matters to me,” he said and turned away from them both.

 

Margaery turned and left the room and Robb hung his head. “How much of this is actually because you think she deserves to die and how much of it is your broken heart?”

 

“I won’t talk to you about her...” Jon said vehemently.

 

“Good. Then maybe you’ll listen.” He heaved a sigh, his temper flaring. “You can’t run off and do what you did tonight. There are people who care about you, Jon. Sansa, Arya, Bran...Me. You put yourself at risk needlessly. If you had told Margaery and me, perhaps we could have helped you. You’re not thinking about this rationally. And in our line of work, you can’t have emotional reactions to things. You know that,” he hissed.

  
“I do know it,” he said as he looked at the floor. “I was invested in her, Robb. I fucking loved her and...she played me.”

 

Robb heaved a sigh. “You’re a damn fool,” he muttered and Jon’s head snapped to look at him. “She loved you,” he said with a shake of his head. “We can see it. See the signs. How she acted with you. What she did with us. It was all different.”

 

“I don’t want to hear this,” he said as he stood and started to unbutton his dress shirt. 

 

“I know. But it’s time you did.” Robb shook his head. “She wasn’t using you. She used Margaery and I. Enough of what happened with us is similar. She never stayed with us. She didn’t travel with us. She didn’t really even have conversations with us. At least, she never really spoke. She let us do all the talking. Fooled as we were by her, we didn’t see how she was keeping both of us strictly business. But not you,” he said as he lifted his drink and sipped it. “She talked to you. She told you things. Real things, we’ve come to learn. I think that, perhaps, she was the most honest with you than she’s ever been with anyone.”

 

He closed his eyes and hung his head. “She said as much.”

 

“Perhaps it’s true.”

 

“Or perhaps she’s still playing a game,” he demanded.

 

Robb shook his head. “That’s anger talking. Anger is a manifestation of fear.”

 

“I don’t need your fucking psychobabble.”

 

He took a seat beside Jon and handed him his drink, which he took then downed in one gulp. “I’m sorry. About all of it.”

 

“You were duped, too.”

 

Robb shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t get attached. If anything, my ego was wounded.  _ I  _ got out seduced. Unheard of.”

 

Jon scoffed. “Will wonders never cease.”

 

They were both silent and Robb ran a hand through his auburn hair. “Margaery and I need your help. You’re better at recon and...infiltration than we are.”

 

He looked over at Robb and shook his head. “I’ll think about it.”

 

“The party is tomorrow. Let us know in the morning,” he said as he stood and walked to the door. “Jon.” He stopped at the door. “I really am sorry.”

 

He only nodded in response. Robb closed the door behind himself and Jon lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and contemplated going into the other room to grab a bottle of booze. Instead, he moved to his laptop and opened it. He rewatched the footage from the hotel cameras of them dancing together and his stomach flipped. She was stunning, as lovely as he ever remembered her. He closed his eyes, then the lid of his laptop. He decided that the bottle of booze was better than wallowing in his misery this way. He simply needed something to help him forget.


	7. Love Is Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An assault on Storm's End...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first off, thank you to FrostbitePanda for the beta on this chapter. She's so thorough that sometimes it makes me nervous to open the chapter and see how red (technically hot pink) it is. 
> 
> Second, thank you to justwanderingneverlost for the gorgeous mood board.
> 
> Title for this chapter is "Love Is Madness" from 30 Second to Mars new album. By far my favorite song and it's with Halsey. Check it out.

 

Daenerys paced her bedroom, unable to unwind after her encounter with Jon. For a split second, she had been terrified that he would kill her in the middle of all those people. She felt the terror course through her blood at the thought that if he  _ had _ , Jorah and Grey would have killed him or  _ he _ would have killed _ them _ . It was a dangerous prospect, letting him so close.

 

Her common sense had been overridden, however, by how good it had been to see him. She had managed to keep her mask on as they danced, seemingly unfazed by his presence. Now, she was still shaking. She had destroyed her relationship with Jon and would probably pay for it with her life-- he couldn’t possibly hate her more than she hated herself. 

 

A knock sounded at the door and she bid them enter. Missandei appeared in the doorway, a look of concern on her face. “Are you alright? I saw your light on and heard you pacing.”

 

Daenerys tilted her head at her friend. Theirs had been a long road together and she couldn’t think of anyone she trusted more. She hated how she felt, knew she’d made horrible mistakes, and she wouldn’t be surprised to know that her best friend thought she was a monster. “Am I a bad person?”

 

A deep scowl formed on Missandei’s face as she rushed to reassure her. “No. You’re a good person.” She paused and took a breath. “This is about Jon.”

 

She nodded. “I hurt him.”

 

“Unintentionally.”

 

She shook her head. “No. I should have done as Jorah said and ended it with him before bringing Robb and Margaery into the fold.”

 

Missandei folded her hands in front of her. “Why didn’t you?”

 

Daenerys sat at the foot of her bed and fought off the tears as best she could. “Because I loved him. Still love him.” She hung her head, afraid to look her friend in the eye as she confessed her heart.  “When everything else in this world was hard and horrible, Jon could make me smile.”

 

Missandei moved to sit beside her and grasped her hand. “I don’t think you’re a horrible person. You help people stuck in terrible situations. What happened with Jon...” Missandei leaned her head against Daenerys’ and spoke softly, “was wrong. Jorah was right. But perhaps you thought jealousy clouded his counsel?”

 

She shook her head vehemently. “No. I knew Jorah was right, that his counsel was the truth of it-- but I was being selfish. Selfish and greedy. I did not want to let him go. And because of what I did, he’s now back in the field.” 

 

“And has set his sights on killing you for being unfaithful? You see how that’s fucked up, right?” She frowned and turned toward Daenerys. “We’ve helped women run away from partners and then had those men try to hunt them down and kill them. Tell me you see how dangerous this all is.”

 

She nodded. “What do I do?”

 

“Maybe the thing you want to do the least.”

 

Daenerys huffed out a breath and crossed the room to her vanity. “I won’t kill him.”

 

“And what if he makes a better attempt at killing you? What if he actually hurts you?”

 

“Jon doesn’t die!” She felt the anger coursing through her blood and her friend gave her a look of sympathy. “He can’t,” she said after a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. “Perhaps we should arrange a meeting...”

 

“There is no way you could convince Jorah, Grey, or Daario to allow you into a room with the three of them-- specifically, Jon. No, we need to leave the Storm Lands and forget about Stannis.”

 

Dany shook her head furiously. “Someone has to stop him. He’s planning to kill everyone at that party tomorrow night and if we don’t do it when we’re right here, then who will?”

 

Missandei frowned and shook her head. “I suppose no one. So, the plan is that you have an arrangement to meet with Stannis and the witch tomorrow during the party?”

 

“Yes. Grey will be at my side.”

 

Missandei stood and walked over to stand beside Daenerys. “Daario will be here by morning...”

 

“I want him back on the other three. I want to know their movements. I want to know why they’re in the Storm Lands.”

 

“And what if Jon shows up but is less inclined to restrain himself in a room full of people?”

 

Dany looked down at her hands and then at Missandei’s reflection in the mirror. “Grey will be at my side. Jorah will be close by in the ballroom. They’re all the protection I need.”

 

“And you’re certain you have a meeting with Stannis?”

 

“Brienne assured me that the red witch has agreed to take the meeting.”

 

“And the little girl? Shireen?”

 

“Will be left for you to remove her from the home and tucked away safely with Gendry. He’s her cousin, after all, and he’s agreed to care for her. You have a soft face and coaxing voice, I’m sure you can convince her to go with you.”

 

Missandei smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. Who is doing the recon for you, though?”

 

“Varys.”

 

“He and his little birds. I know you trust him, but I’m not sure I do.”

 

“He’s the one who told me about Robb and Jon being brothers.”

 

Missandei shook her head. “So why didn’t he tell you months ago when you were looking for the two best active agents you could find? How did he not  _ find _ it then?”

 

“They’re half brothers...” she said, but the doubt trickled into her mind all the same.

 

Missandei gave a frustrated groan and it tilted into her tone when she spoke, “That grew up  _ together _ . If you’ll forgive me, but I am starting to feel like we’re being betrayed.”

 

Daenerys thought it over more, and the truth of her words echoed in her mind, making a mental note to keep an eye open. “It... does  _ seem _ that way. At the very least like I’m being toyed with...”

 

“Maybe someone feels like you deserve it.”

 

“That would be quite a list of suspects, but Cersei is always the top of my list.”

 

Missandei gave her a sly smile. “I’ll keep a weather eye on the horizon.”

 

Daenerys chuckled and clasped Missandei’s hands in hers. “You’re a good friend. My best friend. Thank you for listening to me.”

 

Missandei gave her a reassuring smile, but her expression turned to one of concern. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

 

She shook her head and released her hand. “No, but it won’t be the first time since all this started that I had a sleepless night. I doubt it will be my last.”

 

“Don’t pace all night,” she insisted. “Your feet will swell and you won’t be able to fit into your shoes for the party.”

 

Daenerys nodded. “Of course. I’ll do all my worrying from the bed.”

 

Missandei bent down and placed a kiss on her head. “Thank you. Try to rest.”

 

*~*

 

Robb examined the suitcase full of weapons laying on Margaery's bed,  trying to ignore the cracked door to her bathroom where she stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing more than a purple lace bra and panty set. She was examining to cover one of the wounds on her right arm with a bandage and sighed in frustration. “If you’re going to stare at me the least you can do is help me.”

 

Robb felt embarrassed for only a moment at being caught, but then again she hadn’t sent him away or told him to stop. He put down the gun in his hand and pushed the door open. Most of the wounds were gone, the one on her arm the only one giving her trouble. She had trouble using her left hand to tend to it properly. 

 

He could feel her watching him. Her gaze seemed to scorch his skin as he smoothed the cream over the scratch, then covered it with gauze and tape.  There was something brewing between them, he could feel it right to his toes. 

 

She turned to face him and he was locked in. He wasn’t sure she even knew what she was doing. He shook himself. Margaery probably knew  _ exactly _ what she was doing. This was what she did, after all. She seduced, just like he did, but she didn’t seem to be as rattled as he felt. 

 

He stepped away from her, disliking the feeling of being on uneven ground. He went back out to the bedroom and to the bag of weapons. When she appeared at his side she was dressed in a satin robe, the front still hanging open more than it should, in his opinion. He wondered what she was getting at, believing that it would be a bad idea if they slept together. “Do you think Jon will be able to pull his head out if his ass and actually help us?” He could hear the irritation in her voice.

 

Robb shrugged and folded his arms over his chest, trying to put himself in Jon’s shoes. He was so fixated on his mission of finding Daenerys that his brother was missing the bigger picture. “Hard to say.”

 

“Do you think he’d really kill her?”

 

Robb looked over at her, a curious tilt to his head. “Would you?”

 

She was quiet for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t know. It seems like there’s something bigger at play. Daenerys didn’t go after us because she wanted an adventure. She had a purpose besides taking out Ramsay.”

 

“Cersei. But how does Ramsay link to Cersei?”

 

“Perhaps we should be asking Tyrion,” Margaery suggested. 

 

A knock sounded at the bedroom door and Jon was there, his open laptop in his hands. Robb didn’t think he had slept at all. The dark circles beneath his eyes were growing more prominent, a hollowness to his face that not even a beard could hide. “Sleep well?” Robb‘s tone was derisive.

 

“No,” he sighed before he moved into the bedroom. “I’ve been thinking and drinking...”

 

“Dangerous,” Margaery quipped.

 

Jon gave a partial smirk but continued speaking, “I quit the killing aspect of this job a while ago. I was given a hit I didn’t believe in and it made it nearly impossible for me to do my job.” By his face, Robb could tell that this confession caused Jon considerable pain. His brother had spent so much time doing things on his own that he didn’t trust easily. How badly had Daenerys destroyed what little faith he may have had in other people? “My purpose for getting into this no longer exists. We found Sansa. And as you know, I came to the Storm Lands with less than honorable intentions. I had no desire to help you with Stannis.”

 

Margaery looked from Robb to Jon, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You said  _ had _ .”

 

Jon nodded then turned his laptop around and put it on the dresser. Robb and Margaery stepped forward and he instantly regretted it. “That was taken by one of his followers. The man being burned alive is his brother-in-law. And if you look to the right, in the background, you’ll see Stannis’s daughter, Shireen.” Margaery looked up at Jon but didn’t speak. He flipped to another picture. “She’s standing at his side in this one.”

 

“She looks terrified,” Margaery noted. “So, does this mean you’re going to help us?”

 

Jon folded his arms over his chest, his mouth turned down in a frown, his brows knitted together. “I’ll help you. But we get this girl away first.”

 

Robb shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his eyes away from the horrifying pictures on the screen. “Alright, so, what’s the plan?”

 

*~*

 

Jon stood in line to get into the ballroom. He was two people behind Robb and Margaery who were entering together. He adjusted his tie, holding the invitation in his free hand, ready to give it to the security team at the door.

 

He walked down the stairs and to the bar beside Robb and Margaery. As they reached the bar, Margaery gave Robb her drink order and then turned to scan the crowd. “Full ballroom. What do you think he’s planning?” she questioned, her voice low.

 

Jon nodded at the bartender as he walked off to prepare his drink. “Public execution?” he posited darkly.

 

“What the fuck?” Margaery's voice sounded shocked. “Jon, don’t react,” she warned and he immediately turned his head to see Daenerys walking down the stairs, her arm tucked into the crook of Grey’s.

 

Her red dress was strapless, showing off her toned arms and ample cleavage as it dipped to mid sternum in the front. It hugged her waist and down to her mid-thigh before it flared out in a burst of tulle. Her hair was a large braid wrapped atop of her head, almost like a crown, as most of it draped loose down her back. He could see her eyes scanning the room and he actually felt a jolt through his body when their eyes locked. Grey spotted them next, his eyes hardening. She put a hand on his forearm and ushered him toward them. 

 

“Jon, you alright?” His brother’s concerned voice sounded far away as he watched her walk through the crowd.

 

“You and Margaery go dance,” he ordered.

 

“Like hell we’re leaving you here alone. If she’s here, Jorah and Missandei aren’t far away,” Margaery warned.

 

“I’m not going to attack her in public. Go,” he ordered as he turned back to the bar and drank down his entire drink before ordering another.

 

“Vodka neat,” came her voice from beside him. Grey remained silent. “Either I’m getting sloppier at my job or you’re getting better at yours,” her voice was teasing, but he could hear the concern behind the words.

 

“Combination of both?” he offered. He didn’t bother to tell her that he didn’t know she would be here.

 

“Robb and Margaery are here with you, this time? That’s good.”

 

“Why are you here?” he asked as he gulped down half his drink and remembered they were here for a job. He didn’t need to drink himself into oblivion. 

 

She smiled as the bartender handed over her drink and she sipped at it. “Keep in mind, I’m also not alone.”

 

“I figured that. Grey cleans up well. Where are Jorah and Missandei?”

 

“Jorah is currently serving your brother and Margaery a glass of champagne.” A glance over his shoulder showed that to be true. “And it’s not important where Missandei is. Why are  _ you _ here?”

 

“I believe I asked you first?”

 

She smiled at Grey, but Jon could see the tightness of it. She was unsettled by their presence. Obviously, she was speaking the truth about her shoddy intel. “I have a meeting. Your turn?”

 

“You know me. I love a good party.”

 

She actually gave him a genuine smile. “You hate parties and wearing suits. You called it  _ unnecessary puffery _ if I recall.”

 

“ _ Jon stop flirting with her and look for Stannis or his red witch _ ,” Margaery's voice sounded in his earpiece.

 

He picked up his drink and leaned in toward Daenerys, even as Grey stepped a bit closer. “Perhaps I did, but you always were splendid in red.” He finished his drink and put it on the bar. “I’m still coming for you.”

 

She looked up at him and he hated how it still made his pulse race. “Don’t tease me, Jon Snow,” she said as she reached up and adjusted his tie before smoothing her hand down his chest. “You know how much I dislike it when you tease.”

 

That throaty whisper was nearly enough to undo him, but Robb’s voice in his ear brought him back to reality. “ _ Jorah just went into a door off the kitchen. I’m following.” _

 

Jon turned from Daenerys and walked away. “Don’t follow him. Where is Margaery?”

 

“ _ She’s gone to look for Shireen _ ,” he replied. 

 

Jon winced-- their plan to search the house together was falling apart. He grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing tray but didn’t get to bring it to his lips before a well-manicured hand closed over the top. “Don’t drink the champagne.”

 

He looked at her, surprised. “What?”

 

“It has a sedative in it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“So people can’t leave. Stannis is going to blow up the building with everyone in here,” she said rather calmly. 

 

“Robb and Margaery drank it.”

 

“ _ I feel fine _ ,” Robb responded. “ _ Margaery? _ ”

 

Daenerys shook her head. “Jorah served them, which means they didn’t get any of the sedatives,” she said softly. “Get your people and leave. My team has this.”

 

“What happened to ‘ _ you didn’t have the sort of manpower’ _ to do this sort of thing?”

 

She frowned. “ _ This _ I can do. Taking down a fort on the other hand...” 

 

Jon still stared at her and noticed as she cut her eyes over his head. He turned to see Stannis and the witch known as Melisandre stood beside him. “Leave, Jon,” she demanded before she walked arm and arm with Grey and up the stairs to greet their hosts. Jon watched as the security detail circled around the perimeter of the ballroom, but Stannis’s own private security guards followed them out of the ballroom. He casually walked up the stairs and down a long hallway to an anteroom. The main doors that led outside were blocked by the two burly men he’d seen following the foursome. 

 

“Everyone stays in the ballroom,” they ordered.

 

Jon reached into his front jacket pocket to remove a cigarette case. “I was going out for a smoke.”

 

“Everyone stays.”

 

Jon heaved a sigh and looked around. “Look gents, I’ve just seen my ex here on the arm of another man, surely you can let me out to have a smoke before I punch the bastard in the face.”

 

Neither looked moved by his story and he shrugged before he hit one in the face with the case and kicked him in the stomach, sending him to his knees. The other drew his gun but before he could fire it, Jon had the gun in his own hand and shot him in the head. He turned to the man on the ground and put a bullet in his head. He could hear people screaming in the ballroom, obviously having heard the shots and the sound of people rushing through doors. 

 

Jon kept the pilfered gun and checked the clip to see how many bullets he had, and was satisfied that there were enough to kill the four that went outside. He removed his offending tie and tucked it into his pocket, figuring it was one less distraction. He moved along the back garden and saw flashlights moving away from the large estate and toward a hill. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he gave chase. “Daenerys and Grey have escaped with the Red Witch and Stannis. I’m going after them. Margaery, find Robb.”

 

*~*

 

Robb watched from the doorway as Jorah removed his suit jacket, revealing a roll of tools wrapped around his waist-- wire cutters, needle nose pliers, even a wrench. The older man seemed to have no idea he was there. Robb removed his gun from its holster at his ribs, and when he came into the space he ducked behind a cabinet. The other man still made no move like he was aware he was being watched. Robb looked on as he walked to the other side of the large bomb and he lost sight of him. He made to move positions but felt the barrel of a gun pointed at the back of his head. Robb inwardly cursed himself as he looked back to see Jorah standing over him. He only hoped Jon didn’t hear him die over the telecom system.

 

“Stannis has a remote to detonate this bomb. Do you know how to disable it?” Robb shook his head and Jorah lowered his gun and tucked it into the holster at his side before he grabbed the wire cutters from the roll of tools. “Then I suggest you don’t shoot me until I do. Guard that door,” he commanded and then went about examining the bomb. There was a timekeeping system on the top, counting down. He supposed that if the remote didn’t work, Stannis would still get what he wanted when the timer went off. They had approximately four minutes. The large containers with the explosives inside sat on the ground to chest height. 

 

“Fuck,” Robb muttered and he felt sweat running down the back of his neck as Jorah started looking around worriedly. “What?”

 

“My hand is too big. Grey, I told you that this should have been you,” he spat and Robb realized they must be using a similar communication system. 

 

Robb moved forward and examined the small space between the time system and the actual bomb. It was narrow, but he could see a system of wires linking the detonating device to the explosives. “I can fit. Tell me what to do.”

 

Jorah heaved a sigh and handed him the wire cutters. “You see this panel? We need to cut power to it. This is the remote activation. Cut the red wire.”

 

“Red? You’re sure?”

 

“Fairly sure,” he admitted.

 

“ _ Fairly sure _ ? It is or it isn’t?”

 

“It is?”

 

“For fuck’s sake...”

 

“It’s the red wire. Cut it.”

 

*~*

 

Margaery looked at the two dead guards that lay outside Shireen’s door and listened to the voices inside. Both had been shot through the head and blood spilled over the carpet. 

 

“You’ve really talked to Gendry? He’ll let me live with him?”

 

“I have, Princess. He has a room ready for you, full of books. You’ll never have to see anything burn again,” an older feminine voice said softly.

 

There was shuffling in the room and then Shireen said after a few seconds, “My father is a bad man.”

 

“A lot of people have fathers that are bad men. But it is how we overcome them to become better people that matters. If you come with me, I’ll make it so you never have to fear him again.” It was then, the adamance in her voice, the conviction, that Margaery realized it was Missandei with the little girl. Leave it to Daenerys’s team to already have a place for the victim.

 

“Can I pack a few things?”

 

“Quickly,” she said and Margaery heard rustling. “Get your shoes,”  Missandei said in her soft voice.  _ Damn _ , Margaery thought,  _ she’s good _ .

 

She was distracted from the conversation in the room by the stomping of feet down the hall. Two large men rounded the corner, their guns already pulled. She took aim and killed both of them with shots to the head. The voices in the other room had gone silent. She held her gun up and entered Shireen’s bedroom. Missandei was holding Shireen who clung to her neck, the little girl shaking in fear, her other hand holding her gun at Margaery. She was a bit surprised when Missandei lowered her weapon and gave a frown. “Let me get out of here. We have somewhere safe for her.”

 

“Why would I let you go? You could give us Daenerys.”

 

“If you think _ that _ is what is important then you’re not as smart as she thought.” Missandei snapped as she took a step toward the door. “I only want to get her to safety.”

 

She could see the little girl clinging to Missandei and lowered her gun to let her pass. The dark skinned woman grabbed the bag at the foot of the bed then made her way out the bedroom door. She stopped for a moment and looked back at Margaery. “Find your team. There is a bomb in the basement and if one of yours intercepted Jorah, we only have a few minutes at best.”Missandei turned and ran down the steps and out the front door, killing one of Stannis’s guards as she went. 

 

Margaery turned her earpiece back on as she went for the front of the house as well. “Robb? Jon? Where are you?”

 

“ _ I’m in the basement helping defuse an actual fucking bomb. Get all of those people out of the house. Now! _ ”

 

“Jon?” Margaery asked as she made her way to the ballroom, only to find it eerily empty. 

 

“ _ I’m hiding outside. Daenerys and Grey are speaking with Stannis and the witch. Stannis has some sort of remote in his hand _ .”

 

“ _ It’s a detonator,”  _ Robb answered. _ “We have to work faster! _ ”

 

Margaery walked outside,   watching as people pulled away in their cars and sped away from the keep. “Where are you, Jon?”

 

“ _ Cliff behind the gardens. I can kill all four of them. _ ”

 

“ _ Bomb is deactivated... kill the-- _ ”

 

“Robb?” Margaery asked and ran back into the house. “Robb? Are you alright!? Answer me!”

 

Another grunt sounded in her ear and suddenly Jon was screaming. “ _ Fucking Daario _ !”

 

*~*

 

“Our Lord tells me that you play a very important role in our festivities tonight, Miss Targaryen.”

 

Daenerys kept her grip on Grey’s arm. “I do love supporting a good cause.”

 

“You know my goal is to oust my sister-in-law from power,” Stannis said. “She’s a horrible woman who deals in the flesh of others. I’ll take control of her empire once we’ve seen it crumble.”

 

_ No one will take control again, ever. _ “It would give me peace to see her no longer at the helm.”

 

“Our Lord of Light has brought you here to see the first true demonstration of our power. He requires that non-believers be sacrificed to him. It buoys his power which, in turn, increases ours.” 

 

Daenerys gripped Grey’s arm tighter. 

 

“ _ The bomb has been defused _ .  _ I’m bringing a car to the cliffs to come get you. _ ”

 

“ _ I have Shireen and we’re leaving. _ ” 

 

“ _ Daenerys, I’m here, watching Jon who is currently watching you. _ ” Daenerys nearly gasped at hearing Daario’s voice. Varys was still silent on his end. Then there was Jon, always the wild card, watching them. She admired his tenacity. It had served her well in the past. 

 

Daenerys gave a sickly sweet smile and nodded. She felt Grey moving his arm to his pocket and knew when he had the gun in his hand. She felt the thrill of being able to rid the world of dangerous people fill her as it usually did on these sort of missions. It was a high that she wished she could savor. “Your Lord of Light is correct. I will play a very important role in tonight’s events. You’ll both die,” she said and Grey had his hand raised before she could blink. 

 

Stannis, realizing what had happened, went to draw his own weapon, but the sound of the gunshot echoed on the cliffs. Melisandre watched her partner crumble to the ground before she turned to run. The second gunshot sang through the air, and the red woman fell to the ground, the flashlight illuminating her shocked face. 

 

Jorah pulled up in a plume of dust and flung open the passenger door as Daario screamed at them to go, rushing to the car. They all scrambled into the car, as Jorah slammed on the gas, the wheels spinning for a second before he gunned it down the trail. Gunshots ricocheted off the car and she turned to look out the back window and saw Jon unloading his weapon at them, each shot hitting the glass in the back window.

 

“It’s bulletproof,” Jorah assured. 

 

*~*

 

“Jon, what happened?” she asked weakly through the telecom system. She knelt next to Robb, lying face down on the ground. He groaned as she rolled him over. She pulled his head into her lap and took a moment to feel the relief before she called again, “Jon?”

 

It was a few moments before they were joined by a red-faced and shaking Jon. “She got away.”

 

“Stannis?”

 

“Dead. Grey killed them both. Jorah showed up with a car and fucking Daario came out of nowhere and kneed me in the back. They all got away. The girl?”

 

“Missandei took her.”

 

Robb rubbed the back of his head, coming to. He moved to sit up, but Margaery was still holding on to him, hoping he would take a moment to let himself adjust. But as he sat up and rubbed the back of his head, she moved away from him and Jon helped him stand. “Let's get out of here.”

 

*~*

 

They switched cars at Gendry’s shop. He assured them that he could break the car down where no one would ever find it. Shireen cried into his shoulder, and Daenerys realized it was in relief.

 

She stepped forward and reached into the SUV to remove a gold wrapped package for the little girl. “I have something for you,” she said softly.

 

Gendry settled Shireen on the ground, and she opened the box to find a pair of socks with a stag stitched into the sole. Shireen smiled. “Thank you.”

 

Daenerys leaned down and smiled. “You’re welcome. It’s going to be hard for a while. But you have someone who cares for you, that will help you. These... are a small token. If you need anything, your cousin knows how to get in touch with me.”

 

Shireen nodded and Daenerys gestured for Gendry to follow her to the car. She handed him a credit card. “Whatever she needs.”

 

“I have money...”

 

She nodded. “I know. But take this anyway.”

 

He reluctantly took it from her before helping her into the SUV. “Be safe.”

 

“Keep  _ her _ safe.”

 

“You have my word.”

 

*~*

 

Margaery sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, still warring with herself about allowing Missandei to leave. Robb was in the shower and Jon was drinking in his room, again. She couldn’t shake the relief she’d felt when she realized Robb was still alive. Seeing him laying on the ground had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. 

 

The door to her room creaked open and Robb appeared, almost materialized by her thoughts. This was dangerous. They were tiptoeing around one another even as they grew closer every day, but she would be a fool not to acknowledge that they both wanted one another. 

 

“You alright?” he asked.

 

She nodded. “Crazy night. How’s your head?”

 

He gave her a dazzling smile as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants and walked into her room a bit further. “Jon’s hit me harder on accident when we were kids. I’m fine.” He stood in front of her and she tried to ignore the way his t-shirt clung to his body. Chiseled chest, broad shoulders, muscular arms, and abs for days. But then her eyes met his and she was lost in a sea of blue. “How are you?”

 

She shrugged and stood, moving to her vanity as she removed her earrings and then the pins holding her hair in place. “I let Missandei go with Shireen.”

 

“You said that. But they already had somewhere to put her?”

 

She nodded. “I checked. Gendry is her cousin. The bastard son of Robert Baratheon, who abandoned him when he was a child. He owns a welding shop, makes a damn good living, and seems to be a good person.”

 

“Seems to be?”

 

“I can’t find anything bad on him,” she clarified. “Usually, people’s sins are the first thing we find.”

 

“So, what’s bothering you?”

 

“Something Missandei said.” She looked at him in the mirror. “I said I could use her to get to Daenerys. She seemed irritated, not afraid or angry. She basically told me that Daenerys wasn’t important. It got me thinking...”

 

“Dangerous,” he quipped, trying to lighten the seriousness of their conversation. 

 

She wouldn’t be swayed. “I don’t want to kill her anymore. I mean, I got played, obviously by the best in the game. But what did I actually lose? My pride?” She huffed out a breath. “I’m usually the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. It’s just... bizarre to be on the other side. I don’t... have any actual  _ feelings _ toward her. I realized that tonight-- she’s just a woman that I fucked.”

 

Robb came to stand beside her, his brows knit together in concern. “So, what are you saying?”

 

She heaved a sigh. “I’m in this team... as long as our purpose is more than hunting down and killing Daenerys. I think she’s trying to do good things, even if her ways of doing it are fucked up. But you worked with Jorah tonight to defuse a bomb, I let Missandei go, and Daario clocked Jon in the back with his knee.” She shook her head. “They could have killed all of us and they didn’t.”

 

Robb folded his arms over his chest and heaved a sigh. “It’s different for me. I don’t have feelings for her, but she meddled in my relationship with my brother by taking me to bed...”

 

“Jon said that she didn’t know.”

 

“How did she  _ not  _ know?”

 

“How did  _ you  _ not know? Or Jon?” She put a hand on his arm. “Do you really think she intended that? You and I both suspect that she really was in love with Jon and everything with him was unintentional. Isn’t it possible that she really didn’t know?”

 

Robb lowered his arms and then she became very aware of how close they were standing to each other. He smelled clean from his recent shower, but there was also a masculine scent behind it. His head lowered a bit. He was staring at her lips, inching closer. Her heart was pounding in her chest, confused as to whether she was going to let this happen or not. It was a bad idea, but then, she wanted it desperately. 

 

The shrill sound of her phone ringing brought her back to reality and she took the opportunity to step away from him. She answered without even looking at the ID.

 

“Hello?”

 

_ You did a good thing in allowing Missandei to leave. I appreciate it. _

 

She looked at Robb, worry etched on her features. “I didn’t do it for you.”

 

_ I know that. But it does leave me feeling grateful. I met your grandmother years ago. Did you know? _

 

Margaery was suddenly gripping Robb’s arm and he watched her with increasing worry. “Are you threatening her?”

 

_ Quite the contrary. I like her. She told me to never apologize for the things I had to do to survive. But I am warning you. Joffrey has been dispatched to Highgarden and your grandmother is the target.  _

 

Margaery felt her heart stop beating and knew she would have hit the floor if Robb hadn’t reached out and caught her. “How long ago?”

 

_ An hour. You can beat him there, you just have to leave now. Good luck. _

 

The line went dead and Margaery used her phone to dial her pilot. “Have the plane ready to take off within the hour. Three passengers.”

 

Rob was on his feet then. “What is it? What’s happened?”

 

“Joffrey has been sent to kill my grandmother,” she whispered and grabbed her things. “Get Jon!”

 

*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter. Really starting to get to the meat of this story.


	8. I’ve Never Been Defenseless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang races to Highgarden to attempt to save Olenna. Dany feels like she’s always too late. And Robb and Margaery grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, big thanks to FrostBitePanda for doing a superb beta job on this chapter. A lot happening, lots of moving parts, and she helped me cut out the bullshit!
> 
> Second, huge thanks to justwanderingneverlost for the gorgeous banner she made for this chapter. It is heavily Robb x Margaery.
> 
> Third, hello to our lovely fandom, here! We have such an amazing group of people that all love this show/books and it’s nice when we can all celebrate in that.
> 
> Fourth, to my gorgeous, intelligent, amazing tarts: thank you for all of your support. I would truly be lost without all of you! 
> 
> Fifth, the title for this chapter comes from a Meredith Brooks song “What Would Happen”. 
> 
> And last, I know a lot of people still hate Daenerys in this and find Jon boring (really?) but I hope you’ll hang in with me cause I’ve gone one huge fucking story to tell.

 

Daenerys stared at his body. There was a bullet wound to the back of his head and his com system had been ripped from his head and lay on the floor. It was a sad realization that the master of whispers, the man always three steps ahead, had died without seeing who his killer was.

 

Jorah and Grey began to clean up the hotel room as Missandei came to stand beside her and took her hand, an effort to comfort her. Her voice was soft as she spoke, “I’m sorry for suspecting him.”

 

Daenerys squeezed her hand tighter, taking the small gesture. “I suspected him, too.” She looked up at her friend. “I keep losing people I care for. How long until everyone I love is gone because of me?”

 

Missandei shook her head. “You’d give almost anything to undo what’s happened here. I know that.”

 

She rubbed the bridge of her nose and looked back at her friend. “Daario is on his way to Highgarden?”

 

She nodded. “Got a plane for Highgarden twenty minutes after Jon and company. He’s a few minutes behind Joffrey.”

 

Daenerys rolled her eyes. “Have I told you how much I hate Cersei and her dogs?”

 

Missandei ushered her out of the hotel room and to the car that was waiting outside. Dany had never been the probing sort with her friends, but the expression on Missandei's face could not be ignored. “Tell me whatever it is you’re keeping from me.”

 

The woman was silent for a spell, before she sighed in defeat. “Garlan and Willas Tyrell were found dead an hour ago, along with their security detail. No one has seen Loras or Mace.”

 

Daenerys leaned forward and put her head in her hands. She could feel the bile rising in her throat. “Where were they last seen?”

 

Seated in the passenger seat, Missandei opened her laptop. “Mace was in Braavos. Loras...here! In the Storm Lands!”

 

“Where?”

 

“Renly! Renly Baratheon’s place!”

 

Daenerys took a deep breath and made a decision. “Get Grey and Jorah. We’re going!”

 

“What about Varys?”

 

Daenerys looked back at the closed door of the motel room. They would have to leave her friend, a man who had stood beside her, gathered secrets for her, served her because he believed in her, behind. She had failed him and the thought of just leaving him there made her heartache. It reminded her of losing Barristan all over again. But she swallowed down her fears and misgivings. Loras and Renly needed their help and though it pained her to say it, she knew this was the right decision to make. “We’ll come back. We have to see if we can save Loras.”

 

*~*

 

Margaery paced up and down the aisle of the plane, trying the cell phones of her various family members again and again to no avail. Loras, Willas, Garlan, her father... she felt a sinking in her stomach. 

 

She stopped pacing when Robb appeared in front of her with a drink. “Drink all of this, now.”

 

Her hands shook as she grasped the glass and drank all of it down. Jon’s voice broke the silence. “One more time... what did she say?”

 

Margaery huffed out an indignant breath, not wanting to repeat the story for a fifth time. “She said that Joffrey was being dispatched to kill my grandmother.”

 

“Joffrey? Not one of hers?”

 

“No. She was tipping me off as a thank you for letting Missandei go,” she said as she looked down at her phone again. No replies, no attempted calls. 

 

Robb ushered her to a seat and then took the one across from her. “We’ll get there in time. We’ll save her.”

 

Margaery held out the glass and shook it at him. He stood and refilled her drink. She thought that maybe force of will would cause someone to call her back. They’d been in the air for over two hours. It wasn’t like them. It wasn’t like  _ any _ of them.

 

*~*

 

Robb sat beside Jon as they both watched Margaery continue to stare at her phone. He took a calming breath, trying to still his racing heart, his stomach churning. He had been a ball of raging fury since they’d left for the airport. He looked at Jon’s open laptop and whispered, “Tell me you aren’t looking for Daenerys.”

 

Jon shook his head. “I almost wish I was, but no.” His voice was low. “I’m trying to find her brothers and father. I’ve hacked into the cellphone company to track their phone but there’s no signal from any of them.”

 

Robb ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing?”

 

He shook his head. “It’s scanning all of them simultaneously. If I get a hit...”

 

“You said  _ if _ .”

 

Jon looked down at his full glass before he lifted it to his lips and drained it. “Do you think her grandmother would be the only target? You realize the chances of her family coming out of it with them all  _ alive _ ...”

 

“I know. But keep checking.” Robb was irritated by Jon’s cynicism.

 

“Speaking of families, tell me you’ve called Winterfell,” Jon asked.

 

He nodded. “Father has doubled security. Arya isn’t there, though.”

 

Jon frowned. “Where is she?”

 

“Visiting a friend. Arya is more than capable of taking care of herself,” Robb reminded. “She could probably even take you.”

 

Jon held out his empty glass for Robb to refill. “No, she couldn’t.” Robb hated how certain Jon sounded about it. “But as long as they’re safe.”

 

“We need a plan for Highgarden,” Margaery said as she sat across from them. 

 

“Do we know if Joffery has his Kingsguard with him?” Robb asked as he tried not to roll his eyes at the ridiculous name for Joffrey’s hired muscle, Meryn Trant.

 

Jon took a deep breath. “Assume he does. What kind of security does your grandmother have, Margaery?”

 

“A hired gun.”

 

“Only one?” Robb asked, shocked that the matriarch of such a powerful family would have such a paltry security force.

 

“She doesn’t even want that one,” Margaery returned irritably.  “Why won’t she answer her phone? Why won’t any of them?”

 

Robb reached across the table between them and took her hand. “We’ll get there. And we’ll kill Joffrey in the process.”

 

He could already see that she was losing faith fast. Jon jumped in to reassure her as well. “We’ll get there, Margaery. We will.”

 

She took a deep, shaking breath. “My brothers, my father...”

 

“Loras is a fighter. I’m sure he can handle himself and Willas and Garlan pay well for guards,” 

 

The look of despair that lingered in her eyes caused his chest to tighten. He didn’t want to give her false hope, but he would do nearly anything to see her smile. 

 

It was known by now that they wanted each other. Even Jon, who was wrapped up in his revenge plot with Daenerys, had picked up on that. But there was something...  _ more _ brewing beneath the surface. The need to protect and shelter her had been growing since she had been taken by Ramsay. He sometimes had nightmares-- seeing her strapped to that table. He had  _ other _ dreams about her as well, feverish fantasies that left him hard and aching. 

 

He didn’t feel like it was all one sided. There were times that she would turn her stunning eyes on him and he could see something that set his blood alight. 

 

All he could do is be here for her… whatever the hell that may be worth.

 

*~*

 

They sped down the street, Jorah behind the wheel. Her heart was pounding, hoping they weren’t too late. 

 

The car came to a screeching halt in the circle drive. The front door had been kicked in, blood dripped onto the steps and the entryway. Daenerys drew her gun, but in her heart she knew it was pointless. Jorah, Missandei, and Grey all followed her lead. 

 

Loras lay only a few feet from the door, his face unrecognizable, only his blond hair, caked in blood. He looked to Dany as if his face had been caved in. A trail of blood led inside and to the kitchen where they found Renly. He’d had his head shoved into the doorframe, his body crumpled beside it. 

 

She stared down at him, feeling her heart beating in her ears. Too late. They were always too late. The sound of footsteps approached from behind and she turned to see Missandei, her eyes wide and sorrowful. “We found Mace.”

 

Daenerys felt her heart drop. “Where?”

 

“He died in Braavos General. He’d been shot through the heart on the steps of the Iron Bank.”

 

Daenerys closed her eyes then turned to leave the room, Missandei following behind her. “When we get back to the hotel, I want you to give me my old phone.”

 

“Daenerys...”

 

She rounded on her, her frustration and guilt compounding to make her snap. “I know the danger! But they  _ have  _ to know. I’ll turn it off as soon as I’m done talking to him.”

 

“You’re going to call  _ Jon _ ? He shot at you! Tried to kill you and you’re going to _ call _ him?”

 

“I can’t call  _ Margaery _ and tell  _ her _ over the phone.”

 

“What about Robb? Jorah said he helped him disable that bomb. Call him instead.”

 

Dany heaved a sigh, knowing Missandei wouldn’t relent until she agreed. She finally nodded, giving her friend the reassurance that she sought. 

 

Once she was alone in her hotel room, she picked up her old phone, turned it on, and hit  _ Call _ on the familiar number, Jon’s picture staring back at her. 

 

*~*

 

“You’re going to die, you old bitch.”

 

She heard the voice of her grandmother bite back. “Don’t you think it’s rather odd that your cunt of a mother would send you here to dispatch me when she could have sent you after someone that might be a worthwhile fight? Obviously she doesn’t think much of your skills if she thinks the most you can handle is an old woman.”

 

A slap echoed throughout the room and her grandmother groaned. “I’ll cut out your tongue!”

 

Margaery ushered Robb away from the stair that creaked. Her heart was pounding in her ears, anger and fear swimming through her blood. She saw Jon come from the stairs on the opposite side of the hall and crouched beside the door, using a mirror to look into the room. He stood again and gave her a nod, holding Robb back with his hand. 

 

She wasn’t going to let a sniveling little coward and his henchman kill her grandmother. She dashed in front of the doorway and put a bullet in the back of Meryn’s head, his body fell to the floor with a loud thud.

 

Her grandmother was bleeding from her nose and mouth. Joffrey bent behind her with a knife to her, his face lit up in an evil smile that made her skin crawl. Her grandmother was bleeding from her mouth and nose, leaving stains on her nightgown. 

 

“Well, well, well...if it isn’t the pride of Highgarden,” Joffrey taunted. “Come any closer and I’ll slit her throat. You may kill me but I  _ can _ promise that I will kill her.”

 

Margaery lowered her gun slowly, truly frightened. She felt relief sweep through her as she saw her grandmother removing something shiny from her sleeve. Her pulse still pounded harshly in her chest, but she knew that it as only a matter of time before Joff lay dead on the floor as well. “Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement.”

 

“What kind of agreement?” Joffrey asked, trying not to sound too eager, his eyes shifting nervously to Jon and Robb who had inched slowly into the room. Joff was cruel and cunning, but he was above all a coward. For all his bravado, if he thought he might get out of this with his life, he could be worked.

 

She latched onto his swiftly fracturing focus, darting her eyes back to her grandmother's sleeve. Her fist was clenched around something, and Marg felt a small well of relief.  _ Keep him talking, keep him distracted _ .“You need a new guard. What if I offered  _ my _ services?”

 

“Why would you do that? Aren’t you helping to dismantle my mother’s organization?”

 

She shook her head. “I have no Allegiance to anyone. I could swear to protect you but I’ll only do that if you let my grandmother go.”

 

He stared at her for a moment and shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

 

Joffrey brought the knife closer to Olenna’s neck. A flash of metal and she suddenly raised her hand and jabbed the knife into Joffrey’s eye. His scream echoed in the room and three shots entered his head at nearly the same time. They watched his body slam into the floor. Margaery rushed forward and threw her arms around her grandmother, feeling relief into her bones. 

 

“Are you alright?” She asked, barely able to control the tears that threatened. Her heart raced madly in her chest, her adrenaline pumping through her veins as she gave Olenna a hard squeeze, reassuring herself that she was still with her. She pulled away and reached for a handkerchief from the table beside her to help wipe away some of the blood. She would need a new guard. A better one. But there was time. 

 

Olenna nodded. “Takes more than some little twat like him to kill me. How did you know about the hit?” Margaery was fully aware of her grandmother’s past as a spy. She was the best  _ seducer _ the agency had ever had. There was a reason she was called the Queen of Thorns, after all.

 

“We were tipped off.”

 

She could only watch as fear clouded her grandmother’s eyes, her voice soft as she asked, “Your brothers and father?”

 

“You haven’t heard from them?”

 

“No and I’ve been trying. Something is wrong with my phone.” Olenna turned to the two men in the room with them. “The quality of the company you keep has improved. Who are these two tasty morsels?”

 

Margaery chuckled as Robb and Jon blushed under such scrutiny. “Robb Stark and Jon Snow.”

 

“A Stark so far south? That’s something you hardly ever see.”

 

They descended into silence for a time as Jon and Robb searched the bodies for anything useful, and Margaery continued to clean her grandmother's face... until they heard the jingling of a phone. She turned around to see Jon holding his cell in his hands, his eyes wide.

 

*~*

 

Jon lifted his phone to his ear, taking the call from the number he knew so well.  _ Why haven’t I blocked it?  _  “We’re busy.”

 

_ You got there in time? _ Her voice was hopeful and that irritated him for some reason.

 

“Why should I tell you anything?”

 

_ You probably shouldn’t. Is Olenna safe? _

 

He shoved his hand into his pocket and left the room. “She’s alive and well. Joffrey and Meryn Trant are not.”

 

She was silent and when she sighed he was unsure if it was from relief or something else. Regret, perhaps.  _ You’ll find out soon, but you or Robb should tell her, not Tyrion. _

 

“Tell  _ who _ what?”

 

_ The rest of her family...Willas and Garlan were killed. Mace was shot on the steps of the Iron Bank in Braavos and died at the hospital. And... Loras and Renly Baratheon were killed by the Mountain. _

 

Jon leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, taking in all of this information. “How do you know this?”

 

_ I got the tip about Olenna and I had my people looking at the rest of her family. This was a planned assassination of her entire house. When Cersei discovers that you killed Joffrey, she’ll come for you, too. Protect your family. _

 

“Sansa?”

 

_ She’s better hidden than either of us, Jon. Clear out your home. She’ll burn it to the foundations to get revenge. I’m sorry. I wish... I wish I could do more.  _

 

“You could have warned us about her brothers.”

 

She sighed again.  _ Tell me that you weren’t already scanning for them and then I’ll take the blame. Take care of yourself, Jon.  _

 

The line went dead and he hung his head. He stared at it for a moment longer before getting to his feet. He could feel his heart beating in his ears, the sound of it nearly deafening. He walked back into the room, Robb taking notice of him first, his gaze hopeful, before falling when Jon shook his head.

 

He came to stand in front of Margaery and Olenna and knelt in front of them. The younger woman began shaking her head emphatically, tears already streaming down her face. Olenna’s eyes watered, but tears didn’t fall. “Who?”

 

Jon understood her question and hung his head. “All of them...”

 

He watched Robb move to brace himself on the arm of the sofa. Margaery turned to hug her grandmother as Jon backed away to give them a moment and pulled Robb out into the hall with him. “Call home. Tell them to get out of there.”

 

Robb’s breath hitched. “What do you know?” He took his phone out of his pocket and prepared to dial.

 

“When Cersei finds out we killed Joffrey, she’ll come after our family.”

 

His brother nodded and walked down the hall, his steps unsteady but his voice clear.

 

*~*

 

Margaery and Olenna didn’t shed tears at the funeral. They stood side by side, arms linked, but otherwise they appeared passive. Margaery had hired a new guard for her grandmother, Sandor Clegane, called The Hound. He was a gruff man, but he hated his brother, and promised to watch over Olenna, if for no other reason than to get a chance to kill The Mountain.

 

Olenna had opted to be alone for the afternoon, Jon was busy looking for Arya’s cell phone signal with his laptop.

 

Robb wandered to Margaery’s room where they were staying in Highgarden. He stopped when he heard her sobbing behind the closed door. His heart broke for her. He thought about walking away, but his feet wouldn’t move. Instead, he raised his hand and knocked. He heard her shuffling around behind the door but was eventually bid to enter.

 

He opened the door and found her seated at the edge of the bed. She had tried to hide the evidence of her crying, but he could see the redness around her eyes. “Was there something you wanted?”

 

He shoved both hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. She was trying valiantly to be strong, to put on a brave face. It was worse than seeing her cry. “No. Just wanted to see how you were doing.”

 

She sighed and  walked to her vanity. “I’m fine.” Robb rolled his eyes, despite himself, which he realized very quickly was a mistake. She whirled around and glared at him. “I am! I’m fine! My brothers and father were all brutally murdered but  _ I’m fine _ ! I  _ have _ to be, right?”

 

He shook his head and took two steps to stand right in front of her. “No. You don’t,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t be. I  _ wasn’t _ when Sansa went missing.”

 

The sight of her tears nearly broke him. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight as she began sobbing. He didn’t shush her, he didn’t speak as he couldn’t think of anything to say that could ease her pain. He just leaned his head against hers and felt her wrap her arms around him. 

 

He wasn’t sure how long they stood together, but he felt the loss keenly when she moved out of his arms and put her back to him. She dabbed at her face with a tissue and leaned against the vanity. “I don’t know how to do this, Robb,” she finally whispered. “I don’t know how to deal with wanting to crawl into bed and cry forever or burn the world for taking them from me.”

 

He put a hand on her elbow and she turned to look at him. “You don’t have to do anything right now. Cry if you want.” He let the silence hang for a moment before he spoke again, and hated how he was nearly pleading with her, “Let me help you.”

 

She shook her head and frowned. “Why?”

 

He blinked a few times, trying to wrap his mind around her question. “What do you mean?”

 

“Why do you  _ care _ ?”

 

He straightened and heaved a sigh, trying not to take what she said personally, but failing. “I care about you. I hate that this happened. I hate that you’re hurting.”

 

She rolled her eyes and walked away from him. She kicked off her heels and shook her head. “I don’t need or want your pity.”

 

“ _ Pity _ ?! Is that what you think this is?” He didn’t know why he was so insulted by the assumption. “I don’t  _ pity _ you. I want nothing more than to erase all of this so you don’t have to hurt anymore.  _ I  _ want to be the one to burn the world for you! It’s  _ not _ pity!”

 

Her face softened and her folded arms dropped to her sides. She crossed over to him and raised a hand to his face, tracing along his jaw with her thumb. Margaery kept him on edge so often that he thought he should be used to it by now. But just the brushing of her fingers had him clenching his hands at his sides. 

 

*~*

 

_ Why is he hesitating? _

 

She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. His confession had proven to be the release of the coiled spring between them, and she would make him see it. 

 

He didn’t respond. She started to pull away and then his hands grabbed onto her hips. He went in for another. 

 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him to her, desperate to get closer. She wanted him-- had for months, but now that simple want had turned into a bodily demand-- like oxygen or water.

 

She unwrapped her arms from around him and shoved his jacket over his shoulders. She tore at his tie and felt him walking her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed. He broke the kiss and trailed his lips over her throat, finding a sensitive spot that caused her nails to dig into his shoulders. Robb let out a soft moan against her skin and pulled down the zipper at her back. She shimmied out of her dress and kicked it aside. Her legs went around his waist as he lifted her and crawled more fully onto the bed. She moaned out his name as he settled over her, the full length of his body pressed against her. 

 

Her mind was still reeling, trying to absorb this moment she’d had feverish fantasies about for weeks. The gentle glide of his hands over her waist and up to her lace covered breasts made her arch into his touch. She tugged his shirt from his pants and nearly tore the buttons from the holes, wanting to get her hands on his skin and soon. He sat back on his knees and tore at the cuff links. Margaery sat up and worked on his belt with one hand and cupping the sizable bulge with the other. 

 

He got his hands free of his shirt and cupped her face to bring her lips to his. He moaned into her mouth as she slipped her hands inside his trousers and past the waistband of his underwear. She hummed at finding him hard and smooth beneath her fingers. He captured her wrists to stop her. He pressed her hands to the bed over her head. She could break out of his hold if she wanted, but she relented, enjoying his assertion over her. For the moment, at least. 

 

Her hands moved through his hair as his eyes met hers his eyes lit with something that Margaery couldn’t handle right now. He took her nipple into his mouth. He cupped her other breast, tweaking the nipple while his free hand moved beneath her and unclasped her bra. She pulled it away and skimmed her nails over his shoulders and back. Her thighs tightened around his torso as he sucked on her nipple, using his tongue to flick over it before he released her to only start the maddening process all over again. 

 

“Robb,” she moaned as he began moving down her torso, her breath catching as his eyes locked with hers again. She licked her lips as she propped up on her elbows to watch him. She lifted her hips as he sat back to remove her panties. 

 

He trailed his mouth along the inside of her thigh, the scruff of his beard scratching against her skin causing her to reach for him to end the torture. He shrugged away from her hands, his fingers drifting over her slit for a moment before she felt the hot press of his lips against her. He took his time, driving her mad. At the first touch of his tongue to her slit, she dropped her head back to the bed and rolled her hips toward his mouth. He pulled back, kissing her thighs again. She groaned in frustration. “Robb Stark, you fucking tease.”

 

She could feel his smirk against her skin. “You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” he grumbled. His teeth nipped at her skin and she groaned again. “My turn.”

 

She shook her head. “I’ll get you back,” she warned. “I’ll get creative and ruin your world.”

 

He chuckled and swiped his tongue over her folds as his hands moved over her stomach and up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples into hard points. He slid his tongue inside her for a brief moment, then flicked up to her clit to suck it into his mouth. She held her breath, watching him at work nearly too much for her frayed senses to handle. 

 

He laced one of his hands with hers and it felt more intimate than the lewd things he was currently doing with his mouth. “Robb,” she sighed, thankful for his considerable skill and the much needed distraction he was providing. 

 

She squeezed his hand tighter the closer he brought her to the edge. Even her toes were curling in anticipation of the impending climax he was building within her. She rolled her hips in time with the flicks of his tongue, she looked down and saw his hand working over his cock and that was the final push she needed. 

 

He moved lower and lapped up her release, her body shaking with each long drag of his tongue. She reached down and pulled him back over her, bringing his mouth to hers for a taste. There was something intoxicating about her taste on his tongue. 

 

She pushed him to his back and he immediately toed off his shoes and socks and helped her divest him of his pants and underwear. She bit her bottom lip as her hands stroked over his thighs. Margaery was unsurprised to find that Robb Stark was a man who manscaped. A man whose job depended on seduction would have to, after all. She was appreciative at least. 

 

She slid her hands up to his cock, anxious to feel him inside her. But first, she wanted a taste of him. Her hand stroked from base to tip then back again. She leaned down and placed kisses along the shaft and flicked her tongue around the head, continuing her feather light stroking. “Fuck, Margaery.”

 

She chuckled and sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth, swirling around the wide head. She released him with a pop, then slid up his body. He reached for her, pulling her down for a kiss that curled her toes. 

 

She reached into her bedside table and found a condom. She tore open the package and caught his eye before kissing the tip again, then rolled it down his length with expert ease.

 

“Done that a time or two,” his gruff voice sounded and she rolled her eyes. 

 

“Probably no more than you.” He chuckled and she was glad. Most men would have a problem with the number of men that had been in her bed. Robb, though, probably had just as many women. She pushed that thought away as it made her feel something she was wholly unprepared to deal with: jealousy. 

 

She swung her leg over his hips, tightening them against his. “I’m tired of games,” she said determinedly. 

 

He gave her a nod and reached between them to take his cock in hand and rubbed it against her folds, brushing against her clit. “Then let’s end them.” 

 

He moaned as she seated him inside her slowly. She took a moment to catch her breath, finding the moment to be surreal. She wanted this more than she could put into words. And now, sitting astride him, his  _ sizable _ cock inside her, she basked in it. She relished the feel of his hands moving over her flanks, not making her move, simply caressing her skin. 

 

She lifted up and dropped back on him and all the while his hands moved over her skin, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. She gasped as his hands reached her breasts and her pace increased. 

 

She leaned down and took his mouth. Her hands moved through his hair as his wrapped around her back, one hand cupping her arse as she moved. She felt him shift under her and suddenly he was thrusting up into her. She moaned into his mouth with the sharp snap of his hips. 

 

He rolled her to her back and took a moment to lave both of her nipples with his tongue. She wiggled beneath him, trying to get some friction, but his hips held hers in place. She gripped his hair as he looped one of her legs over his shoulder. Margaery moaned his name as the angle shifted and he pulled almost all the way out, then thrust back inside her in an agonizingly slow speed. 

 

“Margaery,” he groaned against her chest. She thrilled at how deep he was, knowing that if anyone could satisfy her, Robb was the man. He leaned back, propping his hands on either side of her head, minding her hair. She gripped his shoulders and wrapped her other leg around his thigh. 

 

His blue eyes met hers and a blooming feeling within her that she was unprepared for. She was a woman that was able to separate sex and feelings, but Robb Stark was quickly dismantling her system. She swallowed the lump in her throat, ignoring it for now, and focused instead on the grind of his body against hers, the intensity in his eyes. 

 

When she felt his fingers on her clit, her body tightened-- her leg around his thigh, her arms around his back, her cunt around his cock. He groaned and dropped his head, his thrusts changing in tempo, moving faster and harder. She felt it building, pulling tighter and tighter like the string on a violin, and when he moaned her name again and pressed his thumb against her clit, she came. Her legs were shaking, her hips meeting his every thrust, trying to drag it out as long as possible. She was barely aware when he followed her over the edge, but his head hung low, sweat at his temples, his chest heaving. 

 

He moved her leg from his shoulder. She stared at him, wondering how he would react to this. She hadn’t given him much time to think all of this over when she originally kissed him. She hadn’t allowed herself  much time, either. 

 

She felt relief flood her as he pressed his lips to hers and his hands cupped her face. Her hands travelled over his back and cupped his arse for a moment before traveling back into his hair. When he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, she gave him a smile which he returned. “Now I know what all the fuss is about.”

 

He chuckled. “Lived up to expectation?”

 

She nodded. “Perhaps a little beyond.” His thumb stroked her cheek and she leaned into his touch. “What now?” 

 

He heaved a sigh. “I’m going to somehow manage to move off you, get rid of this condom, and sleep. I can do that last one with you, if you want.”

  
She mulled it over, thinking about facing her sorrow alone.  _ Why should I have to do that when I have this man who appears to have feelings for me? _ She nodded. “Stay.”


	9. Chapter 9 - Night of the Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has an enlightening conversation with Olenna and her new bodyguard, the Hound. Robb provides a happy distraction to Margaery. Jon gets a disturbing phone call from his father and finds someone he loves in a rather unexpected place and with a very unexpected person. Despite his promises, he can no longer control his rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that took a while, didn't it? I'm sorry it's taken so long to update, but I've gotten distracted by Legends with my lovely friend justwanderingneverlost. She made this gorgeous mood board for this chapter. 
> 
> Huge thanks to FrostBitePanda for the beta job on this. I hope you all like it as much as she does. 
> 
> The title for this chapter comes from my favorite band in the world, 30 Seconds to Mars. 
> 
> To my lovely tarts who have been so encouraging when it comes to this fic. I love you all so very much! Thank you for being the amazing women you are. 
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE ON MALE AND FEMALE - EQUAL DOSES OF ASS KICKING IN THIS CHAPTER AND NEITHER COMES OUT OF IT UNSCATHED!**

**TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE ON MALE AND FEMALE - EQUAL DOSES OF ASS KICKING IN THIS CHAPTER AND NEITHER COMES OUT OF IT UNSCATHED!**

 

Jon sat at the table in the kitchen, his laptop in front of him. The screen was blank, unable to decide what to do. What direction did he move in now? Did he continue hunting for Daenerys? Did he try to find who had killed Margaery’s family for her? They were in a holding pattern. He didn’t know if their team would exist after this. 

 

There was the shuffling of feet along with the heavy stomps of someone much bigger. He looked up to see Olenna and the Hound, her new bodyguard. 

 

“Aren’t you the one who likes to hide away?” Olenna prodded.

 

Jon shrugged. “Sometimes.”

 

“I’ve heard a great deal about you from my granddaughter over the last few days.” Jon raised an eyebrow at her, curious where she was going with the conversation. “Yes, Margaery told me about your heartbreak,” she said as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a platter of food and handed it to the Hound followed by another. He put them both on the table and Olenna joined them with a loaf of bread, a knife, and a bottle of Jim Beam. The Hound grabbed three glasses and Olenna poured while the Hound made sandwiches. 

 

“Don’t be afraid of the roast beef,” she said as she poked at the Hound. He threw more onto her sandwich, grumbling even if there was a hint of fondness there and Jon watched all of this with quite a bit of amusement.

 

A sandwich was passed to him as he closed his laptop. 

 

“You’re the White Wolf?” The Hound asked him.

 

“I used to be.”

 

“Oh? Then who was the bloke that put a slug in that little coward’s head?” Olenna queried before she sipped her drink.

 

Jon frowned and sipped at his own drink. “You’re Margaery's family. I’d do it again.”

 

Olenna nodded and tilted her head as she examined Jon and he nearly squirmed under her gaze. “Did you know I met Daenerys once?” Jon shook his head, Not sure he wanted to get into this particular conversation with the Queen of Thornes. “Oh yes, she’d just arrived in Westeros with Jorah and...the girl...what’s her name?”

 

“Missandei?”

 

“That’s the one. Daenerys saved her, you know? Missandei was a slave. Daenerys and Jorah saw the end to that. As they should have. They were getting off a ship as I was sitting in port waiting for my yacht to be brought over. Daenerys was thin, little, young, and covered in dirt. They all were. I realized they were stowaways. I  _ needed _ to talk to them. Anyone with the nerve to stowaway on a ship was someone worth talking to. I fed them all lunch, ordered them a room, new clothes. Daenerys said she would pay me back when she could get to a bank. I laughed. It was laughable, you see? That she would have the money yet stowaway on a boat?”

 

Olenna took a bite of her sandwich and looked at the Hound as he raised his glass to his lips. “Go over there and get napkins.”

 

He did what he was told and plopped them onto the table beside Olenna. She turned her attention back to Jon as she wiped her mouth. “It’s rude to not eat when a woman is eating,” she said as she gestured to the sandwich in front of him. He reached down and took a bite. “Very good. Now, where was I?”

 

“Laughable that she could pay you back,” the Hound offered. 

 

“Ah, yes. So, imagine my surprise when there was a sizable deposit was made into my account from a  _ DT _ . After that, I figured it out. The scrappy, filthy stowaway I had tended to was none other than Daenerys Targaryen.” She shook her head and sipped at her drink. “Her hair should have given her away right off, but, well, I wasn’t looking for the rich and powerful daughter of a storied family under all the muck. She was terrified of something.” She took a deep breath then sipped at her drink. “So, I told her  _ you’re a dragon. Be a dragon _ . I hear she took my advice and ran with it. Taking down Cersei’s empire is a tall task.”

 

“And she appears to be willing to do whatever it takes to do it,” Jon sniped.

 

“Right. The broken heart,” she said with a frown. “You love her.”

 

“I hate her.”

 

Olenna rolled her eyes and glared at him. “You  _ wish  _ you hated her. Would be easier, I think.”

 

Jon refused to acknowledge what she was saying. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t. Not after what she did. 

 

“What did she do to you, anyway?” The Hound asked. 

 

“It’s personal.”

 

Olenna snorted indelicately. “It’s not that personal.” She looked at the Hound. “She cheated on him.”

 

The Hound raised an eyebrow. “Well, I would understand the hate part.”

 

“With my brother.”

 

“You could kill her,” the other man offered. 

 

Olenna's face twisted in disapproval. “That’s an overreaction. What you should be angry about, but you don’t seem to be, is that you were essentially retired until this happened and your vendetta against her has pushed you back into the game.”

 

“How much have you and Margaery been talking?”

 

“My granddaughter tells me everything,” she stated clearly. “But that was still your choice. You could just leave her alone. Go about your life. Ignore her.”

 

He downed the rest of his drink. “I could.”

 

“How many men have you killed because of her?”

 

Jon was silent as he thought over her question. Before the Dreadfort it had been over a year since he’d taken a life. It had taken him that long to try to block out the screams of his victims, the sound of a bullet as it passed through a neck or the back of someone’s head. Then they had been delivered information about Sansa and Ramsay. He hadn’t even thought twice about picking up a gun to find his sister. He hadn’t counted the bodies he’d put in the ground that day. But the number of times he pulled the trigger he remembered too well. That was it. That had been the turning point, the point where he had become the assassin. “The Dreadfort.”

 

Olenna shook her head. “That was to get your sister back. Not because of  _ her _ . The way Margaery tells it, you wouldn’t have even known where  _ Sansa  _ was, had Daenerys not told you.” Olenna refilled his glass and Jon noticed that she had a heavy hand as it was filled nearly to the rim. “Drink up, boy.”

 

Jon took a sip and frowned. “There were a few guards at Stannis’s party.”

 

“Oh? What were the circumstances of those deaths?”

 

“I was following her...”

 

“Ah, so if  _ you  _ hadn’t been following  _ her _ they might still be alive?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Jon Snow, but you haven’t taken a single life  _ because _ of her. Those are  _ your _ choices. If you hate her as much as you claim, ignore her. That’s true revenge.”

 

The Hound filled up his glass, obviously sensing he needed another drink. Jon said nothing to the man as he drank it down, letting Olenna’s words roll around in his head. The older woman argued with her new guard about how it was rude not to fill her glass as well, unaware that she had just rocked Jon’s point-of-view. He had never considered  _ not _ chasing her, seeking out deadly revenge with his anger firmly in the lead. She had told him already that she _ wanted  _ them to chase her. He knew her eventual mission was to take down Cersei, which had put them all in the woman’s crosshairs. 

 

Perhaps the best and safest thing to do was to walk away.

 

*~*

 

He had his cheek resting on her stomach, stroking gently over her ribs. He was jostled from his position as she sat up and gave him her half-smile that always seemed to get his blood pumping. “It just occurred to me that I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with another  _ seducer  _ before.”

 

He sat up fully and faced her. “Nor I. It’s refreshing, actually. Someone who knows what the hell they're doing.”

 

Margaery chuckled and nodded. “Do you know how many orgasms I’ve faked to get my job done?”

 

He winced. “That sounds wretched.”

 

She nodded. “It was.” She ran a gentle finger over his arm, tracing over the blue vein beneath his skin. “So, what is your go-to move?”

 

“Why would I tell you? Perhaps I plan to use it on you.”

 

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his jaw and over to his ear. “Please?” she whispered and pulled away so he could see her face. He didn’t know how, but her eyes appeared larger, her bottom lip almost poked out in a pout. 

 

Her fingers tickled the back of his neck and he narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Is this one of yours?”

 

She laughed. “Picked up on that rather fast.”

 

He took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “How was your day?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me that doesn’t actually work.”

 

He chuckled. “Come on, play along. How was your day?”

 

She huffed out a breath and smiled. “The afternoon perked up.”

 

“How so?”

 

“I finally got something I wanted after a long time of waiting,” she said as he continued to stare into her eyes and smiled to feel her thumb rubbing against his hand. 

 

He pulled her closer, kissing along her jaw and down her neck. “And was it worth the wait?”

 

She hummed and stroked her fingers through his hair while he trailed his hands over her soft skin. The sounds she was making nearly drove him mad. “It was better than expected.”

 

He stopped kissing her neck and lifted his head to look at her, a bit offended at her answer. “What does that mean?”

 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “It means of all the scenarios of us having sex that have run through my head, it exceeded expectation. I knew you had to be good to do what you do. I thought it was better than good. Your mouth is especially talented,” she said as she kissed him. 

 

His arms moved around her waist and pulled her into his lap. He knew he was in too deep and they were in very dangerous territory. He didn't want to just be a distraction from her pain. He wanted more. He wouldn’t voice it, though, not yet. The last thing she needed was pressure from him. For now, if he could put a smile on her face, he would take that victory. 

 

As she straddled his hips, she paused and looked down at him, one eyebrow arched in question, “Weren’t you supposed to be showing me your move?”

 

Robb chuckled and smoothed his hands over her thighs and up to her hips. “Tell me, love, where are you sitting right now?”

 

She looked down, her blue eyes locking with his. “That’s clever. Distract me so I don’t notice that you’re moving me right where you want me.”

 

He placed a kiss at the hollow of her throat as he trailed his fingers up along her spine, feeling her shiver in response. One hand slid into her hair, tugging her head back gently as the other trailed along her body and gripped her breast. He would provide a distraction for her as long as she needed, he only hoped that when the fog of her pain cleared his heart wasn’t left in pieces, scattered into the wind. 

 

*~*

 

Jon had decided to hide away in his room. He was laying on his bed, his hands tucked beneath his head, and his laptop closed at his side. Olenna’s advice was sound. If Daenerys wanted him to chase her, the best way to get back at her was to ignore her existence. 

 

Easier said than done.

 

He still had anger sitting in his chest like a white-hot ball, burning through him with every tumble. Any examination of that anger took him down the path of a broken heart and that only made him sick with resentment. He’d let his guard down with her, ignored his instincts. He cared too much too soon. He had never felt for someone what he felt for her and it ate at him to think of her betrayal. 

 

He wanted her to suffer. 

 

Olenna was right, though. If he followed her, chased as she wanted, then she won and he still was left with a broken heart and who knew how many dead bodies at his feet. 

 

His cell rang and he hesitated to pick it up, knowing that the last call he got was from her. But seeing his father’s name gave him pause and he sat up on the bed. “Father.”

 

“We have a problem,” he said softly. “We’ve moved to the safe house as Robb instructed...only we can’t find Arya. She’s not where she said she was going to be...”

 

Jon immediately opened his laptop. “Her cell?”

 

“Rolls to voicemail. I haven’t left a message of any kind because I don’t want the wrong people to get it.”

 

Jon nodded. “No, you did right. I’ll see if I can get a hit on her phone and I’ll find her.”

 

“Thank you, son.”

 

“Thank you for calling me,” he responded, finding conversation with his father to be as awkward as usual. 

 

“Good luck.”

 

Jon hung up the phone and immediately began searching for Arya’s cell signal. When he found her, she’d be lucky if he didn’t kill her.

 

*~*

 

Jon had told Olenna he was borrowing a car and would be in touch. He thought about interrupting Robb and Margaery, but he could hear them laughing behind her closed door. He wasn’t going to intrude and have to watch them make eyes at one another.

 

Besides, he was used to working alone. 

 

He managed to get a hit on her cell phone in the Storm Lands. He didn’t take the plane because it belonged to the Tyrells and would have required more questions and answers. As it was, he wanted to find his sister and send her home. He’d been driving overnight and was now ten minutes from where he’d gotten the brief hit before the phone was turned off again. 

 

He pulled up to a garage, finding the main door open wide, and a man bent over the engine of the car. He looked up, younger than Jon thought he would be. With dark hair and blue eyes, the man gave him a pleasant smile. 

 

“Can I help you?”

 

“Uh...yeah. Looking for a tune-up.”

 

He pulled a rag from his back pocket and wiped off his hands. He gave a nod. “Makin’ any strange sounds?”

 

“Nah, just time for some maintenance.”

 

He looked back at the car in the garage. “I’ve got about ten more minutes work on this one. I can get to it, then. Got time to wait?”

 

“You don’t mind?”

 

He shook his head. “Not at all. Gendry.”

 

“Jon,” he said as he shook the other man’s hand. “How long you been doing this kind of work?”

 

“Oh since I was a youngin’. Always been fascinated with cars. You’re not from here,” he said with a smile.

 

Jon shook his head. “What gave me away?”

 

“Accent. Northern?”

 

He nodded. “Aye. Good guess.”

 

“Heard it a lot. You can wait in there if you want,” he said, pointing to the waiting room which also contained a desk. “Just need your keys.”

 

Jon handed over the keys and moved into the office. He waited for Gendry to go back to working on the car, his head tucked beneath the hood, then started moving papers around on his desk, not finding anything about Arya. He checked on Gendry again and found he was still working, then slowly pulled out the top drawer and stopped at seeing a familiar tag number on a repair bill. He flashed back to the night of Stannis’s party and the car he’d seen Daenerys get into. He had hunted for the very same tag, unable to find any trace of it, yet here it was on a slip of paper inside this mechanic’s desk. 

 

He used his phone to take a picture of the slip, then tucked it back inside the desk, and proceeded to pace the small office. Gendry’s voice called out to someone. “Hey, Arry, can you come move this car out so I can pull the other in?” There was no answer and Jon was about to volunteer his services. “Arry!” He called again, this time she appeared from the top of a set of stairs that sat across the garage bay, a little pair of feet following behind her. 

 

“I heard you! And don’t call me that, you know I’m hiding...”

 

Her voice trailed off as she and Jon locked eyes. She looked scared for half a second before she ran across the room and jumped into his arms. He lifted her from the ground, holding her tight, relief flooding through him. She was alive and well. 

 

He put her on the ground, cupping her face. “I’m so glad to see you.”

 

She gave him a smile and hugged him around the waist. “I’m glad to see you, too.” When she pulled back, this time, though, she looked less happy. “How did you find me?”

 

“You turned your phone on the other day. I was scanning for it after Father told me they couldn’t find you.”

 

She tilted her head. “Why were you looking?”

 

He looked at Gendry and the little girl at his side, taking a step back as he realized it was Shireen, Stannis’s daughter. 

 

“You and I need to talk in private,” he said firmly. “Now.”

 

Shireen moved closer to Gendry and he lifted her in his arms. “Talk outside,” he said softly, suddenly wary of Jon and his purpose there.

 

Jon led Arya outside and into the car he had borrowed from Olenna. “You need to start talking, now. Who is he?”

 

“Gendry Waters. My... fiancé.”

 

He felt his heart racing to think of his little sister engaged and to someone he hadn’t been able to do a background check on. Not to mention he clearly had an association with Daenerys. “ _ Fiancé? _ For how long?”

 

“A year.”

 

“Engaged a year or…?”

 

“Engaged a year. I’ve known him since we went to private school together. He’s... Robert’s son.”

 

“ _ Baratheon!? _ Our father’s best friend?” He knew his mouth was hanging open as he tried to grasp onto this new knowledge. It all felt like too much information too fast. Arya was alive and well,  _ engaged _ , to Robert Baratheon’s son. The same Robert Baratheon they had known their entire lives. “I don’t remember him having a son named Gendry.”

 

She sighed. “Gendry was from an affair. Robert paid for everything but didn’t have anything to do with him otherwise. He was one of my few friends and... I’ve sort of been in love with him since I was fourteen.” She wrung her hands together and hung her head. “No one knows. Father still doesn’t know Robert had another son.”

 

“Joffrey,” he said softly. “Cersei. Joffrey is dead.”

 

“Since when?”

 

“Been a week? Robb and I killed him when he was holding Margaery’s grandmother hostage.”

 

Arya shook her head. “Wait, back up. You’re working with  _ Robb _ ? And here I thought you were doing recon.”

 

Jon ran a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. “Long story.”

 

She eyed him for a moment and folded her arms over her chest. “Jon, tell me you’re not the...”

 

“The what?”

 

“The White Wolf?”

 

Jon’s face fell. “How do you know about that?”

 

“Oh, Gods! You  _ are _ !” She shoved him. “Everyone knows! Anyone that’s even remotely involved in crime knows.”

 

Jon blinked at her, mouth hanging open, completely stunned. “Why are _ you _ involved in crime?”

 

“I’m not. Gendry... fixes cars for them sometimes. We heard talk about the _White Wolf_ chasing the _Last Dragon._ You’re going after Daenerys.”

 

He felt his blood boil. “How do you know about her?”

 

“Again, everyone knows. She brought Shireen here for Gendry to care for. They’re cousins.”

 

“Does Daenerys know who  _ you _ are?”

 

Arya shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably.” He leaned back against the seat and she looked out of the windshield. He followed her gaze and saw Gendry pointing out the parts beneath the car to Shireen who was standing on a small step stool and asking questions. He looked over at Arya, conflicted. He wanted to shake her and make her leave with him. On the other, he couldn’t shut up the voice that was telling him he couldn’t leave the little girl there. Shireen was innocent, a child. He felt a sense of responsibility for her. He’d seen too much death and destruction at his own hands, he couldn’t have the life of a child hanging around his neck like a noose when he would have been able to prevent her death. 

 

“You have to leave,” Jon hissed. “All three of you. Get to a safe house. Cersei sent Joffrey and some others to take out the Tyrell’s because... we’ve  _ assisted _ Daenerys in her endeavors to topple her empire. Robb and I killed Joffrey. Everyone else is in hiding, and that’s why I’m here.”

 

She put her head in her hands, taking several deep breaths before she looked up at him with wide, concerned eyes. “Is she coming for us?”

 

“I don’t know, but you can’t chance it. Cersei killed Margaery’s three brothers and father, all of whom had guards. You’re sitting ducks out here,” he insisted. “If you don’t have a safe house, drive to Highgarden in the Reach. Robb and Margaery are there. They can protect you.”

 

Arya took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “We have somewhere to go,” she said as she opened the door and Jon did the same. She walked into the garage and took Gendry’s hand. “Hot Pie,” she said and he glanced at Jon, then Shireen. He reached into his pocket and tossed Jon the keys to the car. That was obviously their code word. He had to give it to his sister that she was prepared for a situation like this. Then again, he blamed himself that she even had to. 

 

“Shireen, can you help Arry pull the cover off the car over there?”

 

The little girl nodded and Arya followed her as he walked into his office and Jon followed. He watched Gendry open the vent behind his desk and pull out a duffle bag. Jon closed the door. “Let me make this clear, she knows who I am and I’m telling you as a warning:  I'm  the _ White Wolf _ and Robb is t he _ Young Wolf _ . If anything happens to our sister, they’ll never find all the pieces of you.”

 

Gendry settled the bag in his desk for a moment and nodded. “Good. Cause if something happened to her, the world isn’t worth living in.”

 

Jon nodded and left the office. He placed a kiss on Arya’s forehead. “Be safe. Be aware. Get a burner phone and call dad on his spare. I’ll fill in the gaps for him later.” She nodded and hugged him again. “Don’t make me kill your fiancé because you were reckless.”

 

She looked up at him and nodded. “Be safe, too. Thank you for the warning,” she said before she climbed into the Audi with Gendry and Shireen. The garage was already locked up and they were off and down the street. Jon climbed into the Mercedez he’d borrowed from Olenna and called his father.

 

“ _ Jon? Tell me you found her. _ ”

 

“I did. She’s going somewhere safe and she’s not alone. I’ll let her fill you in.” He heard his father sigh in relief. “She’s fine, though.”

 

He sighed in relief. “ _ Good. I might kill her when I see her, but good. Thank you _ .”

 

“You’re welcome. Call me if you need me.”

 

“ _ We will. Love you, son _ .”

 

Jon closed his eyes, taking in those words that had kept him afloat through all the years of feeling out of place in his father’s home. The brief moments he would have with his father, feeling for only a short time that he was where he was supposed to be; it had been those words that kept him grounded. “Love you, too.”

 

Jon ended the call and pulled off down the road. He pulled off on the shoulder as he remembered the picture he took in Gendry’s office. 

 

Olenna’s words rang in his head:  _ ignore Daenerys, don’t give in. _ But again, she had involved his family. The garage she happened to pick was the same one that housed the mechanic his sister was  _ engaged  _ to? Stannis’s  _ nephew _ ? It all felt too real, too close to home. 

 

He tossed his phone into the seat beside him, and beat his fists on the steering wheel, trying to get rid some of the hurt, the anger. He finally screamed and gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. 

 

Decision made, he grabbed the phone, opened the picture and read over the document. He had an address. He’d never had that before. 

 

He drove to a hotel and called Robb. “ _ Nice of you to first, tell me you’re leaving, and second, return my fucking phone calls.” _

 

“Sorry. Father called me and I didn’t want to bother you and Margaery with something I could do myself.”

 

“ _ What did Father want? _ ” Jon almost thought he could hear hurt in his brother’s voice, but ignored it. Robb was picked as the favored son over him enough as it was. 

 

“They couldn’t find Arya. She wasn’t where she said she would be when they went into hiding. I got a hit on her cell and came to find her.”

 

“ _ And did you?” _

 

“Aye. I found her. She’s fine. She’s heading to a safe house.”

 

“ _ Alone? Why not just bring her back with you?” _

 

“She’s not alone. And it’s... complicated. I’m going to stop at a hotel and stay for the night, then I’ll be back on the road home tomorrow.”

 

Robb sighed and it was silent for a moment. “You know, when I found out you left, I assumed you were chasing Daenerys.”

 

Jon clutched the steering wheel again. “She was the farthest thing from my mind while I was looking for Arya.”

 

“ _ Good. We need to talk when you get back. The three of us. _ ”

 

“Alright. But I’m exhausted as I’ve been driving all day. I’ll call you when I start back.”

 

“ _ Be safe. _ ”

 

“You, too.”

 

He held his phone in his hand and closed his eyes, wanting all of this to end. Not only were he and Robb tangled up in her web, but now Arya and the rest of his family was in danger as well. It all came down to Daenerys and her need to include them in her mess, even if she claimed he was an accident. He shook his head, his heart telling him that  _ nothing _ between them had been an accident. 

 

He started the car again, putting her address into his GPS and driving with a purpose. Perhaps if he ended Daenerys, he could convince Cersei to leave his family alone. Even so, it would still feel good to get revenge on Dany for all the pain she had caused. Not Dany. Daenerys. His Dany died the day he found Robb in the conference room. He could kill her, one more person, and walk away. He could do it. He  _ would _ do it. 

 

*~*

 

Jon took slow, calculated steps as he held his gun up in front of him. He shot out a camera that was in the corner of the ceiling and then the lights went out. He gave it a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness when he felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of his head. 

 

“Drop your gun,” she said, and he heard the confidence in her voice. He didn’t, however, drop his gun and after only a moment, he felt the point of her heel drive into the back of his knee, the sharp pain of the spike digging into the flesh at the back of his knee dulled by the throb of the bone crashing into the hard floor. “Drop it,” she demanded.

 

Stuck on his knees as she circled in front of him, he put the gun on the ground and she kicked it to the corner of the room, keeping her gun pointed at his head. “You’re proving to be a nuisance.”

 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he mumbled.

 

Daenerys smiled and stepped back from him. “Robb and Margaery here or is this another suicide mission?”

 

“Murder/suicide,” he said as his eyes met hers in the darkened room. 

 

She shook her head. “I’m not going to let you kill me, Jon. Frankly, it’s for your own good.”

 

He scoffed. “You live in a world of delusion if you think  _ that _ is true.”

 

He rejoiced to see hurt in her eyes, but as quickly as it came it was gone, replaced with determination and possibly sadness. “I wouldn’t want you to live with the knowledge that you did something you hate to a woman you claimed to love.”

  
“It’s not a _ claim _ . It was true.”

 

“ _ Was _ ? Am I that easy to get over?” She teased, but he knew her humor was a wall she was hiding behind. He wanted her to hurt as he did. He wanted her to suffer from the thought that what was between them wasn’t important.

 

He scowled. “I don’t like liars.”

 

She shook her head, rolled her eyes. “Jon, you’re such a hypocrite. You’re a  _ spy _ . You are a trained killer. A  _ trained liar _ . One of the best, I might add. How many lives have you taken? How many people did you inform on that eventually lost their lives? Or, was it just a job? A  _ means _ to an  _ end _ ?  To be able to find Sansa?” The disbelief in her voice rankled him. He had started in this profession to  _ find _ his sister. He hated to admit, even to himself, that it had grown into something more. 

 

“It was  _ always _ to find Sansa.”

 

“And you found her. Yet, here you are. Trying to kill me.” Her voice was bitter, her eyes narrowed to slits. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to provoke her while she had a weapon and he didn’t, but lashing out at her was cathartic, knowing he was under her skin as much as she was his. “Doesn’t sound to me like it was  _ just _ to find Sansa, or you would have been done when you took down Ramsay.”

 

“I’m doing this, now, to end you.”

 

She straightened and held her gun up to his head. “I could save myself a lot of headaches if I killed you. Send Daario and Jorah to finish off Robb and Margaery.” she clicked the hammer of her gun into place. He could see the way her eyes appeared sad, distant as if she was trying to convince herself to simply end it all. For the first time, he wondered if she  _ would _ actually do it.

 

He noticed the slight shake of her hand and his eyes met hers again. “Nervous about killing someone? First time?”

 

She shook her head. “No. I’ve killed before. My first husband, Drogo, and my second, Hazaq. Men don’t live very long around me,” she said before she grimaced and lowered her gun. 

 

“Your dazzling personality.”

 

“Someone always kills the people I love. You should run while you can.”

 

“I thought you wanted us to chase you.” 

 

She moved away from him and over to where she had kicked his gun, removed the clip, and dumped the bullets out into the floor. She dismantled it in less than a few seconds and left the pieces scattered around her feet. “You should leave.”

 

“I came here with a purpose,” he said and he heard her sigh. 

 

“Yes, well I’m not going to allow you to kill me tonight. Especially not in my own home. The power is out. The alarm has been tripped. In about five minutes, this place will be swarming with security and you won’t get out alive. Leave while you can,” she said as she turned her back to him and walked into the adjoining room. 

 

He was on his feet and removing the knife from his sleeve within seconds and followed her. 

 

He ducked as a vase was thrown at his head, followed by a bottle of some sort of alcohol which broke on the wall over him and splashed down the back of his head. He barely had time to look up before she had kicked him in the chest and sent him sprawling to his back and into the other room. He looked up in time to see her cocking a shotgun and rolled to the side before she shot at the space of floor he had just occupied, the wood flying into splinters.

 

Jon swept his leg low and got her off her feet and onto her back. She hit the floor with a grunt, and he scrambled to his feet and kicked her in the abdomen twice. She howled before managing to lift her leg and plant her foot, with its wicked heel, into his thigh just as he was coming in for a punch.

 

He fell back to the floor, feeling something drip down his face. He raised his hand to see that it was blood where her heel scraped his brow. He watched her scramble to her feet and race across the room. Jon managed to find his way to his feet, feeling the pain in his thigh and his head. He gripped his thigh as he chased after her. He caught the back of her dress with blood-slicked fingers and yanked her back and around, slamming her into a bookcase. He lunged forward to pin her with a grunt, but she had grabbed a brass bookend within a blink and took a mighty swing with a yell. Pain exploded in his temple and jaw and he fell back with a yelp. 

 

He barely registered that she was swinging her arm and half blocked it. He couldn’t catch her knee as it came up and slammed into his groin. He doubled over and she drove both elbows into his back as he was bent over clutching himself. 

 

He fell to the floor, his vision swimming as he tried to process that he had let his anger cloud his better judgment and it would probably cost him his life. Only a few hours before, he had been resolute in his decision to let her go, not chase her, yet here he was flat on his back and unsure if he was going to live through this. His head spun as blood dripped down his face. His balls throbbed in pain and thigh burned in agony, and he was certain he had at least one broken rib. He was a trained fighter, one of the best when it came to hand-to-hand, and she had bested him. 

 

Lights from outside were circling and knew he was done for. His stomach rolled and his head throbbed. He could feel his rapidly beating heart in his temple. He couldn’t really breathe, and she was suddenly on him, ripping his button-down shirt off of him. She shimmied out of her dress and knickers then pulled on his white shirt, as a pounding sounded at her front door.

 

“Miss Targaryen!” He watched her smear her lipstick on her face as she left the room. He rolled to his stomach as he tried to get up, but the spinning in his head barely let him hear her in the other room as she opened the door.

 

“Gentlemen, sorry about that. I don’t know what happened to the power.”

 

“Are you alright?” 

 

She laughed. “Goodness, yes. Just entertaining... surely you can get the power back on without this being too much of a fuss.”

 

“We called your cell for confirmation...”

 

“Again, I was rather busy... don’t even know where I put my phone down...” The power came back on and the light made Jon slam his eyes shut in the glare. He realized he was in some sort of library. Explains all the bloody bookshelves, then.  

 

“Well, I thank you for all your help. I’ll try to remember to keep my phone closer,” her voice filtered from the other room. He’d almost forgot what it sounded like to hear her so happy, even if it was a farce. But, as the world spun around him, he found it harder to concentrate on anything other than the churning in his stomach and the aching in his head, knee, and ribs. 

 

“If you’re sure...”

 

“Very sure.”

 

He heard the door close and the patter of her feet as she walked back to him. He could make out her bare knees and the press of her fingers as she looked down at him, concerned. “How many fingers do you see?”

 

“Too much light to see fingers.”

 

She heaved a deep sigh and moved away from him. “I know I’m going to regret this...” was the last thing he heard before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Mr. & Mrs. Smith with a lot more rage/aggressive violence.


End file.
